Thursday, April 27, 2017

For National Poetry Month: Robert Frost

During a Facetime chat yesterday with my daughter, Angela, she passed a statue of Robert Frost on the campus of Dartmouth College.  I decided at that point that I 'd found my subject for National Poetry Month. Because when I think of poetry, I think of Robert Frost.  He was one of the first poets I studied (to some extent) in school.  I asked Angela to send me a better photo than the screen shots I took during our Facetime, and today she texted me this beautiful photo, taken by her boyfriend, Matt (because she was in lab until 8 PM), of the bronze statue of Robert Frost by sculptor George W. Lundeen. Thank you, Angela and Matt!

Robert Lee Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963) was an American poet.  Born in San Francisco, CA, his family moved to Lawrence, MA, after his father died.  He graduated from high school in 1892, and attended Dartmouth for two months (he left college to work to help his family, and later attended Harvard for two years).  Frost felt that his true calling was poetry, and he sold his first poem, "My Butterfly. An Elegy", in 1894.  He married Elinor Miriam White in 1895, in Lawrence, and Frost became a prolific poet, who wrote poetry from his homes in various parts of New England (and later from England). He won four Pulitzer Prizes for poetry, as well as a Congressional Gold Medal in 1960.  Frost was named the poet laureate of Vermont in 1961.

When I think of Robert Frost, the poem that stands out in my mind is "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" (1922).  Isn't his name, Robert Frost, so perfect for a poet writing about the cold, frosty woods?!  He wrote the poem quickly one morning from his home in Shaftsbury, Vermont, after watching a sunrise, having stayed up all night to work on a long poem, "New Hampshire" (which should maybe be underlined, due to its length).  If you've ever been to New England and have walked in the woods, you'll agree that this poem captures the essence of the woods.  The last stanza is etched in my memory from my schooldays.  Perhaps you remember it as well. 

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.

I've added this post to Savvy Verse & Wit's special Mister Linky for National Poetry Month. Thank you, Serena!

Happy National Poetry Month!  As always, your comments are welcomed.


  1. Lovely to be back with you. Thank you for your kind comments.

    I'm not a great lover of poetry as you know but this poem really speaks to me. Perhaps its the setting, perhaps its the simplicity but I really like it.

    1. Tracy, I'm glad you enjoyed the poem. Thanks for stopping by!

  2. I love the way you decided to write about Frost!! Great post!

  3. I love how you came upon this post. Frost is one of my favorites. I love his poetry. One of my earliest poems was a mimic of Frost's "The Road Not Taken". I really love his work and you can't think of New England without thinking of him.

    1. Thanks, Serena. I really wanted to post something during NPM, but I didn't know what to post, until I saw the sculpture. Thanks also for hosting the Linky! :)

  4. Vicki, it is rather remarkable that you found a book of poetry by Robert Frost on the donations table at the library! Thanks for your comments.

  5. Thanks for sharing this poem, I read a little Frost, long ago and far away

  6. Thanks for posting this. I love Robert Frost. He is one of my favorites.

    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening has become a part of our culture. I think that almost everyone has read or heard it. Almost everyone seems to have an opinion on it.

  7. I knew Robert Frost grew up in New England but, found the best of his bio so interesting. I'm not a huge poetry fan, but this is one that I really enjoyed. (Hope your daughter is loving Dartmouth and time in New England

  8. We read the memorable 'Road Not Taken' by Frost in High School. He was brilliant. I like the statue of him as a young man. Thanks for sharing this post.

  9. I don't read much poetry but this was a nice post to read. Have a great week!

  10. To celebrate National Poetry Month in April I actually read a book of poetry I had on my shelf for a few years. It was titled "Great Poems" and filled with many poems by different poems, and yes a few of Robert Frost poems were included. I enjoyed it although I didn't understand a few of them, but then we speak differently than the poets of 200-300 years ago. I enjoy the poem, it reminded me of my younger days when I loved walking through a pine forest right after a snow and the pines were so beautiful with the new snow. Thanks for sharing.

  11. I haven't really read poetry in years but this is a nice wee post & I do love your linkys :D


  12. I love Robert Frost, but it's been awhile since I've read one of his poems. I enjoyed your post, reading about his life, and reading one of his poems. So cool that your daughter had passed his statue at college!

  13. I like this poem and that last verse is well known. I can actually relate. That's how I feel on some days when work seems interminable!

  14. I love Frost's poetry. One of my favorite vacation memories was visiting the Robert Frost House in the White Mountains. My husband and I enjoyed walking the trails. It seemed like the perfect place to write about nature.

  15. Great post Susan and nice photo of the Robert Frost statue to go with it! I like his work too, thank you for sharing this one.

  16. I just wanted to say again how much I love Robert Frost. I really need to read a collection of his poems again. I especially love to read them in the fall.


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