Transcript Robert Frost

Robert Frost
“Education is the ability to listen to
almost anything without losing
your temper”—Robert Frost
Biography
Named one of the best 20th century Pastoral Poets.
Was awarded the Pulitzer Prize four times for the poems: New
Hampshire(1929), Collected poems(1930), Further Range(1936),
Witness Tree(1942).
Born in San Francisco, California, March 26, 1874.
Married old schoolmate Ellinor White and had six children.
Studied at Harvard but from 1897 to 1899 but left without a degree.
Moved family to England in 1912 and published his first collection of
poems containing some of his most well known poems: Mending Wall,
Death of the Hired Man, Home Burial, After Apple Picking, The Wood
Pile.
Moved back to the U.S. and in 1916 he became a member of National
Institute of Arts and Letter.
Published third collection of poems in 1916 “Mountain Interval”. Had
poems: The Road Not Taken, Birches, The Hill Wife.
1961 recited two poems at the auguration of President John Kennedy
Traveled to Soviet Union in 1962 as a goodwill group.
Died in Jan 29, 1963.
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 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.
--Robert Frost
Mending Wall
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 neighbour 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
neighbours."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbours? 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
neighbours."
--Robert Frost
What I like about
Robert Frost’s work
Imagery in poems are
very similar to sights in
everyday.
Easy approach to
subjects.
Not often until the end of
the poem does the
meaning of the poem
strike me.
Poems not difficult to
follow.
Each poem has a hidden
metaphor for a moral
view on life.
Inspires and challenges
me to think on what the
poem is about without
using too many big words
and turning me away.
Just Another Day
Aye, Yet another day has yet to be
Be thankful for the dawn break in between
For always I shall treasure the calm before
Safety breather, eye perhaps, of the storm
The twisting fence weaves a long crooked line
Into neglected timothy and wheat
All is quiet save the chirping bluebirds
With a lingering breath of soft pine scent
Nothing shall upset my eye of the storm
Always I shall prefer my dawn to sun
But inevitably the sun shall rise
Aye, yet another day has yet to be
Explaination of Poem
Related to nature
Uses the same line
more than once for
effect.
Reflective of the
imagery Robert Frost
describes in his
poems.
Each line written with
10 syllables
References
The Academic American Encyclopedia.(1995).
Biography of Robert Frost. Grolier Electronic
Publishing. Retrieved 2000 from the World Wide
Web;
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/robertfros
t/
http://www.ketzle.com/frost/
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/a_f/frost
/frost.htm