Poems of Robert Frost
|23.||Bond And Free||1/13/2003|
|24.||But outer Space||1/3/2003|
|33.||Dust of Snow||1/3/2003|
|34.||Evening In A Sugar Orchard||1/13/2003|
|35.||Fire and Ice||1/3/2003|
|36.||Fireflies in the Garden||1/3/2003|
|38.||For Once, Then, Something||1/3/2003|
After Apple Picking
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still.
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples; I am drowsing off.
I cannot shake the shimmer from my sight