By Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower.
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
By Robert Frost
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
These 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.
By Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire
Some say in ice
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire
But if it were to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction, ice
is also great and would suffice.
By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
and be one travler 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
Oh I kept the first for another day
Yet knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back
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