Poetry Robert Frost Essay

Poetry Robert Frost Essay-44
The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another sireet, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, One luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right I have been one acquainted with the night. Because Frost’s poems operate on so many levels, it is possible for almost everyone to find his or her own beliefs about life reflected in Frost’s poetry.

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The fact that most readers seem to see their own beliefs reflected in Frost’s poetry certainly accounts for his popular success, but this point also raises some serious questions about his poetic achievement.

If his poems advance no universal truths, Frost may well be accused of having no philosophy—of being too vague and complex for any clear interpretation to be derived from his works.

The most distinctive characteristic of Robert Frost’s work is elusiveness.

Frost operates on so many levels that to interpret his poems confidently on a single level frequently causes the reader to misunderstand them completely.

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” is only one of many examples of a poem that has been read with many contradictory interpretations.

Readers have variously explained its meaning, ranging from the serenity of a snowy night to the virtues of duty to the lure of death to self-mockery.The American poet Robert Frost was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco, CA.He spent his first 40 years mostly unknown, and it wasn’t until after returning to the United States from England—where he had his first two books of poetry published—near the beginning of the first World War, that he was truly recognized by the publishing world as the talented word-smith he was.During his later life he earned four Pulitzer Prizes, and as the unofficial U. “poet laureate” he was a special guest at the inauguration of President John F. He died of surgical complications two years later, at the age of 88.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. Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. 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. The veils themselves are constructed of technical devices such as symbol, rhyme, stanzation, imagery, and dramatic situation, and they are rooted in language play, which Frost uses to effect sleight-of-hand tricks.He is a magician whose devices are so artful that readers usually cannot see how he transforms one theme into another; they may be delighted with the effect, yet they cannot help wondering how they have been tricked so completely.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.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.


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