Putting in the Seed / Robert Frost

You come to fetch me from my work to-night

When supper's on the table, and we'll see

If I can leave off burying the white

Soft petals fallen from the apple tree.

Once By The Pacific / Robert Frost

The shattered water made a misty din.

Great waves looked over others coming in,

And thought of doing something to the shore

That water never did to land before.

The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,

Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.

Nothing Gold Can Stay / Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Neither Out Far Nor In Deep / Robert Frost

The people along the sand

All turn and look one way.

They turn their back on the land.

They look at the sea all day.

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.

Home Burial / Robert Frost

HE saw her from the bottom of the stairs

Before she saw him. She was starting down,

Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.

She took a doubtful step and then undid it

To raise herself and look again. He spoke

Advancing toward her: "What is it you see

From up there always--for I want to know."

Good-bye, and Keep Cold / Robert Frost

This saying good-bye on the edge of the dark 

And cold to an orchard so young in the bark

Reminds me of all that can happen to harm

An orchard away at the end of the farm

All winter, cut off by a hill from the house.

I don't want it girdled by rabbit and mouse,

I don't want it dreamily nibbled for browse

By deer, and I don't want it budded by grouse.

Good Hours / Robert Frost

I HAD for my winter evening walk--

No one at all with whom to talk,

But I had the cottages in a row

Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:

I had the sound of a violin;

I had a glimpse through curtain laces

Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

For Once, Then Something / Robert Frost

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs

Always wrong to the light, so never seeing

Deeper down in the well than where the water

Gives me back in a shining surface picture

Me myself in the summer heaven godlike

Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.

Fire and Ice / Robert Frost

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.

Dust of Snow / Robert Frost

The way a crow 

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

Blueberries / Robert Frost

"YOU ought to have seen what I saw on my way

To the village, through Mortenson's pasture to-day:

Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb,

Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum

In the cavernous pail of the first one to come!

And all ripe together, not some of them green

And some of them ripe! You ought to have seen!"

"I don't know what part of the pasture you mean."

Birches / Robert Frost

When I see birches bend to left and right

Across the lines of straighter darker trees,

I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.

Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them

Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning

After a rain. They click upon themselves

As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored

As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.

After Apple-Picking / Robert Frost

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.

A Servant to Servants / Robert Frost

I DIDN'T make you know how glad I was

To have you come and camp here on our land.

I promised myself to get down some day

And see the way you lived, but I don't know!

With a houseful of hungry men to feed

I guess you'd find.... It seems to me

I can't express my feelings any more

Than I can raise my voice or want to lift

My hand (oh, I can lift it when I have to).

A Hundred Collars / Robert Frost

LANCASTER bore him--such a little town,

Such a great man. It doesn't see him often

Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead

And sends the children down there with their mother

To run wild in the summer--a little wild.

A Girl's Garden / Robert Frost

A neighbor of mine in the village 

Likes to tell how one spring

When she was a girl on the farm, she did 

A childlike thing.

"Out, Out–" / Robert Frost

The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard

And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,

Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.

And from there those that lifted eyes could count

Five mountain ranges one behind the other

Under the sunset far into Vermont.