Quotes From "The Poetry Of Robert Frost" By Robert Frost

I would not come in. I meant not even if...
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I would not come in. I meant not even if asked, And I hadn't been. Robert Frost
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Fireflies in the GardenBy Robert Frost 1874—1963 Here come real stars to fill the upper skies, And here on earth come emulating flies, That though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart) Achieve at times a very star-like start. Only, of course, they can't sustain the part. Robert Frost
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I could give all to Time except -- except What I myself have held. But why declare The things forbidden that while the Customs slept I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There, And what I would not part with I have kept. Robert Frost
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The TelephoneWhen I was just as far as I could walk From here today There was an hour All still When leaning with my head against a flower I heard you talk. Don't say I didn't for I heard you say You spoke from that flower on the window sill- Do you remember what it was you said ''First tell me what it was you thought you heard.'' Having found the flower and driven a bee away I leaned my head And holding by the stalk I listened and I thought I caught the word What was it Did you call me by my name Or did you say Someone said "Come"I heard it as I bowed.'' I may have thought as much but not aloud.' Well so I came. Robert Frost
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They cannot scare me with their empty spaces Between stars–on stars where no human race is. I have it in me so much nearer home To scare myself with my own desert places. Robert Frost
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I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, A luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night. Robert Frost
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Part of a moon was falling down the west, Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills. Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand Among the harp-like morning-glory strings, Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves, As if she played unheard the tenderness That wrought on him beside her in the night. Robert Frost