Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Robert Frost Poems

If you see a poem only with title, it is listed that way because of copyright reasons.
81. On Looking Up By Chance At The Constellations 1/3/2003
82. Once By The Pacific 1/3/2003
83. One Step Backward Taken 1/3/2003
84. Out, Out 1/3/2003
85. Pan With Us 1/13/2003
86. Paul's Wife 2/3/2015
87. Place For A Third 2/2/2015
88. Plowmen 1/13/2003
89. Provide, Provide 1/3/2003
90. Putting In The Seed 1/13/2003
91. Quandary 4/24/2003
92. Range-Finding 1/3/2003
93. Reluctance 1/13/2003
94. Revelation 1/3/2003
95. Rose Pogonias 1/13/2003
96. Spoils Of The Dead 3/29/2010
97. Spring Pools 1/3/2003
98. Stars 1/3/2003
99. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening 1/3/2003
100. Storm Fear 3/30/2010
101. The Aim Was Song 1/3/2003
102. The Armful 1/13/2003
103. The Axe-Helve 3/29/2010
104. The Bear 1/13/2003
105. The Birthplace 5/14/2015
106. The Black Cottage 3/29/2010
107. The Bonfire 3/29/2010
108. The Code—heroics 3/29/2010
109. The Cow In Apple-Time 1/13/2003
110. The Death Of The Hired Man 1/3/2003
111. The Demiurge's Laugh 1/3/2003
112. The Door In The Dark 1/27/2015
113. The Exposed Nest 1/13/2003
114. The Fear 3/29/2010
115. The Flower Boat 1/13/2003
116. The Freedom Of The Moon 2/2/2015
117. The Generations of Men 5/16/2015
118. The Gift Outright 1/3/2003
119. The Gum-Gatherer 1/13/2003
120. The Hill Wife 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come ...

Read the full of The Road Not Taken

Misgiving

All crying, 'We will go with you, O Wind!'
The foliage follow him, leaf and stem;
But a sleep oppresses them as they go,
And they end by bidding them as they go,
And they end by bidding him stay with them.

Since ever they flung abroad in spring
The leaves had promised themselves this flight,
Who now would fain seek sheltering wall,

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