POEM COLLECTION OF ROBERT FROST

STOPPING BY THE WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

Whose woods these are I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see woodsopping 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.

MY  NOVEMBER GUEST

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,

Thinks these dark days of autumn rain

Are beautiful as days can be;

She loves the bare, the withered tree;

She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.

She talks and I am fain to list:

She's glad the birds are gone away,

She's glad her simple worsted grey

Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,

The faded earth, the heavy sky,

The beauties she so truly sees,

She thinks I have no eye for these,

And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know

The love of bare November days

Before the coming of the snow,

But it were vain to tell her so,

And they are better for her praise.

 

GOD'S GARDEN

God made a beatous garden

With lovely flowers strown,

But one straight, narrow pathway

That was not overgrown.

And to this beauteous garden

He brought mankind to live,

And said: "To you, my children,

These lovely flowers I give.

Prune ye my vines and fig trees,

With care my flowerets tend,

But keep the pathway open

Your home is at the end."

Then came another master,

Who did not love mankind,

And planted on the pathway

Gold flowers for them to find.

And mankind saw the bright flowers,

That, glitt'ring in the sun,

Quite hid the thorns of av'rice

That poison blood and bone;

And far off many wandered,

And when life's night came on,

They still were seeking gold flowers,

Lost, helpless and alone.

O, cease to heed the glamour

That blinds your foolish eyes,

Look upward to the glitter

Of stars in God's clear skies.

Their ways are pure and harmless

And will not lead astray,

Bid aid your erring footsteps

To keep the narrow way.

And when the sun shines brightly

Tend flowers that God has given

And keep the pathway open

That leads you on to heaven.