What's the meaning of life???: Poet (Robert Frost)

Poet (Robert Frost)

Robert Frost was one of America's leading 20th-century poets and a four-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize. I find him very intriguing as he lived somewhere 1874-1963, but millions of readers around the world have still found comfort and profound meaning in his poetry and he has influenced numerous other authors, poets, musicians, and playwrights into the 21st Century. Here are some background information about him. Robert Frost was born in San Francisco on March 26, 1874. He moved to New England at the age of eleven and became interested in reading and writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, Massachusetts. He was not a poet from the start. After leaving school, he drifted through a string of occupations, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent. A year later he married Elinor White, with whom he had shared valedictorian honors at Lawrence, MassachusettsHigh School. His wife became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. Over the next ten years he wrote poems but rarely published them, operated a farm in Derry, New Hampshire and supplemented his income by teaching at Derry's Pinkerton Academy. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas. Rupert Brooke and Robert Graves. Now, this is the start of his poetry career.

President John F. Kennedy said , "Frost has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding." Frost style of writing is very simplistic.His poetry was also very natural in its wording, using words that most people can understand and that make his poetry seem practical and ordinary.

Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963. his live was was plagued with grief and loss. His father died of tuberculosis in 1885, when Frost was 11, leaving the family with just $8. Frost's mother died of cancer in 1900. Elinor and Robert Frost had six children, but unfortunately, only Lesley and Irma outlived their father. Son Elliot (1896–1904, died of cholera), daughter Lesley Frost Ballantine (1899–1983), son Carol (1902–1940, committed suicide), daughter Irma (1903–1967), daughter Marjorie (1905–1934, died as a result of puerperal fever after childbirth), and daughter Elinor Bettina (died three days after birth in 1907). Frost's wife, who had heart problems throughout her life, developed breast cancer in 1937, and died of heart failure in 1938.

Having lived for close to 90 years, he had written about 180 poems or more. That is a great achievement for somone who started writing poems only after spending half of his lifespan.

Here are the three poems:

1.The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

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.

2.Fire and Ice 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 favour fire.
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.

3.Nothing Gold Can Stay 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.

I really hope you can appreciate these 3 poems.

More Robert Frost Poems>http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/robert_frost/poems

Citation

Info on Robert Frost
http://everything2.com/node/1149111
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/robertfrost
http://poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192

Robert Frost Poems
http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/robert_frost/poems

What's the meaning of life???

Poet (Robert Frost)

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