Poems of Robert Frost
|61.||Love And A Question||1/13/2003|
|62.||Meeting And Passing||1/13/2003|
|66.||My November Guest||1/3/2003|
|67.||Neither Out Far Nor In Deep||1/3/2003|
|68.||Never Again Would Bird's Song Be the Same||1/3/2003|
|69.||Not to Keep||1/3/2003|
|70.||Nothing Gold Can Stay||1/3/2003|
|71.||Now Close The Windows||1/13/2003|
|73.||On Looking Up by Chance at the Constellations||1/3/2003|
|74.||Once by the Pacific||1/3/2003|
|75.||One Step Backward Taken||1/3/2003|
|77.||Pan With Us||1/13/2003|
|80.||Putting In The Seed||1/13/2003|
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