Showing posts with label Robert Frost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Frost. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 June 2012

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold:
her hardest hue to hold.
Her first leaf's a flower
but only so an hour.
But then leaf subsides to leaf,
so Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.