FROST, ROBERT

(March 24, 1874–January 29, 1963), was an American poet and teacher. He had been a farmer in New Hampshire; taught at Amherst College; was poet in residence at the University of Michigan; and professor of poetry at Harvard University, 1936. He won the Pulitzer prize for poetry, 1924, 1931, 1937, and 1943; was named consultant in poetry for the Library of Congress; and received the Congressional Gold Medal in 1960. His works include: A Boy’s Will, 1913; North of Boston, 1914; Mountain Interval, 1916; 2 1928; A Way Out, 1929; From Snow to Snow, 1936; A Witness Tree, 1942; Masque of Reason, 1945; Steeple Bush, 1947; Complete Poems, 1949; and The Road Not Taken, 1951.

In a comment broadcast on WQED, Pittsburgh, quoted in Collier’s, April 27, 1956, Robert Frost stated:

Ultimately, this is what you go before God for: You’ve had bad luck and good luck and all you really want in the end is mercy.3214

In “The Road Not Taken” (1951), Robert Frost wrote:

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.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to 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.3215

In the poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” Robert Frost wrote:

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 give his harness bell 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.3216