The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But now the theory goes That the apple's a rose, And the… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
“A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, With doors that none but the wind ever closes, Its floor all littered with… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple's a rose. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
Leaves and bark, leaves and bark, To lean against and hear in the dark. Petals I may have once pursued. Leaves are… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the house… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift, The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, And the… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;) And go along with you ere… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts working when you get up in the morning, and doesn't stop until you get to the… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
When I see birches bend to left and right... I like to think some boy's been swinging them. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
“The promising young poets, the hopefuls? I'd name Richard Wilbur, Peter Viereck, Karl Shapiro, Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Lowell, John Ciardi...Leonard Bacon...but it is still… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
Lord, I have loved Your sky, Be it said against or for me, Have loved it clear and high, Or low and stormy... — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
Let him that is without stone among you cast the first thing he can lay his hands on. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
It is only a moment here and a moment there that the greatest writer has. Some cognizance of the fact must be taken in… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
And of course there must be something wrong In wanting to silence any song. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fill you with so much quail shot that you can't move, and the kind that… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But now the theory goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is,… — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee, and I'll forgive Thy great big joke on me. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
What an exciting age it is we live in With all this talk about the hope of youth And nothing made of youth. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
