Poetry Robert Frost Essay

Poetry Robert Frost Essay-63
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.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.

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.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.

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For example, why does he describe a “two-pointed” ladder when it does not make any difference what kind of ladder it is as long as the narrator can reach the apples with it?

Why does he say that it is “sticking” toward heaven?

“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 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.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. He has collected his apples in barrels, one of which remains unfilled, and the narrator speculates that there may be a few applies left unpicked, although he does not know for certain.His ladder, long and two-pointed, is in the tree where he has left it, and it points “toward heaven still.” In the first six lines, Frost has already begun his sleight of hand by introducing some facts within the dramatic situation that seem extraneous to the poem’s development.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.These details of course help to bring the poem alive, but as part of the dramatic situation they add implications far beyond their descriptive use.Heaven is not simply a direction; if it were, Frost could have said “skyward,” or not said anything at all since it is obvious that a ladder that sticks through a tree must be pointing up.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.

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