Fwd: Conversational Salon | <– Date –> <– Thread –> |
From: patty (pattypaxearthlink.net) | |
Date: Mon, 26 Dec 2011 09:34:59 -0800 (PST) |
sorry if this came twice.
HI, So here are the poems by Robert Frost for the people who will come to the salon. One of the "saloners" suggested we read these 5 poems and discuss. So, i saved you the trouble of looking them up. Also, suggested were The Lake Isle of Innisfree by W B Yeats and God's Grandeur by Hopkins. But, maybe that's asking alot of us.A good way to start the new year. Tomorrow, Mad Hatter's Salon Thanks, patty Begin forwarded message:From: patty <pattypax [at] earthlink.net> Date: December 26, 2011 11:23:51 AM CST To: Patty Guerrero <pattypax [at] earthlink.net> Subject: poems The Road Not Taken # 5 on top 500 Poems User Rating: 9.1 /10 (794 votes) Print friendly version E-mail this poem to a friend Send this poem as eCard Add this poem to MyPoemList Add this poet to MyPoetList 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 marked the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. MENDING WALL Robert Frost Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun, And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left not one stone on a stone, But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean, No one has seen them made or heard them made, But at spring mending-time we find them there. I let my neighbor know beyond the hill; And on a day we meet to walk the line And set the wall between us once again. We keep the wall between us as we go. To each the boulders that have fallen to each. And some are loaves and some so nearly balls We have to use a spell to make them balance: 'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!' We wear our fingers rough with handling them. Oh, just another kind of out-door game, One on a side. It comes to little more: There where it is we do not need the wall: He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'. Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder If I could put a notion in his head: 'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it Where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him, But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather He said it for himself. I see him there Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. He moves in darkness as it seems to me~ Not of woods only and the shade of trees. He will not go behind his father's saying, And he likes having thought of it so well He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors." About Inherent Nature 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. internal.org poets >> Poets >> Robert Frost >> Acquainted with the Night Acquainted with the Night by Robert FrostI have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, O luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night.Fire and Ice # 11 on top 500 Poems User Rating: 8.8 /10 (618 votes) Print friendly version E-mail this poem to a friend Send this poem as eCard Add this poem to MyPoemList Add this poet to MyPoetList Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. Home Poets Essays about this poem from Answers.com Short Critical Essays about this poem Video of Robert Frost reciting this poem From Amazon: POETRY HOME | ENGLISH 88 READING LIST | POETRY NEWS | FILREIS HOME Document URL: http://www.english.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/frost-mending.html Last modified: Wednesday, 18-Jul-2007 16:25:54 EDT We want YOU to be a whistle blowerWe want YOU to be a whistle blower
We want YOU to be a whistle blower
- Conversational Salon, (continued)
- Conversational Salon patty, November 27 2011
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