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1. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
2. Santa Decca The Gods are dead: no longer do we bring To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves! Demeter’s child no more hath tithe of sheaves, And in the noon the careless shepherds sing, For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning By secret glade and devious haunt is o’er: Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more; Great […]...
3. Reluctance Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended. The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save those that the oak is keeping […]...
4. First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
5. Tick-Tock Tick-tocking in my ear My dollar clock I hear. ‘Arise,’ it seems to say: ‘Behold another day To grasp the golden key Of Opportunity; To turn the magic lock Tick-tock! ‘Another day to gain Some goal you sought in vain; To sing a sweeter song, Perchance to right a wrong; To win a height unscaled […]...
6. 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
7. Dance Me To The End Of Love Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone […]...
8. Gold Leaves Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out The year and I are old. In youth I sought the prince of men, Captain in cosmic wars, Our Titan, even the weeds would show Defiant, to the stars. But now a great thing in the […]...
9. "It Might Have Been&quot We will be what we could be. Do not say, “It might have been, had not this, or that, or this.” No fate can keep us from the chosen way; He only might who is. We will do what we could do. Do not dream Chance leaves a hero, all uncrowned to grieve. I hold, […]...
10. Long For This World I settle for less than snow, Try to go gracefully like seasons go Which will regain their ground – Ditch, hill and field – when a new year comes round. Now I know everything: How winter leaves without resenting spring, Lives in a safe time frame, Gives up so much but knows he can reclaim […]...
11. Sonnet 38 – First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’ When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. […]...
12. Hyla Brook By June our brook’s run out of song and speed. Sought for much after that, it will be found Either to have gone groping underground (And taken with it all the Hyla breed That shouted in the mist a month ago, Like ghost of sleigh-bells in a ghost of snow) Or flourished and come up […]...
13. Design I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth, And dead wings […]...
14. Marine Snow At Mid-Depths And Down As you descend, slowly, falling faster past You this snow, Ghostly, some flakes bio- Luminescent (you plunge, And this lit snow doesn’t land At your feet but keeps falling below You): single-cell-plant chains, shreds Of zooplankton’s mucus food traps, Fish fecal pellets, radioactive fallouts, Sand grains, pollen….And inside These jagged falling islands Live more microlives, […]...
15. Under the Violets HER hands are cold; her face is white; No more her pulses come and go; Her eyes are shut to life and light; Fold the white vesture, snow on snow, And lay her where the violets blow. But not beneath a graven stone, To plead for tears with alien eyes; A slender cross of wood […]...
16. My Butterfly Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too, And the daft sun-assaulter, he That frightened thee so oft, is fled or dead: Saave only me (Nor is it sad to thee!) Save only me There is none left to mourn thee in the fields. The gray grass is scarce dappled with the snow; Its two banks […]...
17. Dancer THE LADY in red, she in the chile con carne red, Brilliant as the shine of a pepper crimson in the summer sun, She behind a false-face, the much sought-after dancer, the most sought-after dancer of all in this masquerade, The lady in red sox and red hat, ankles of willow, crimson arrow amidst the […]...
18. Song from Aella O SING unto my roundelay, O drop the briny tear with me; Dance no more at holyday, Like a running river be: My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed All under the willow-tree. Black his cryne as the winter night, White his rode as the summer snow, Red his face as the morning light, […]...
19. The Lobster Quadrille “Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle will you come and join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, […]...
20. Beyond Siberia Again Siberia Beyond Siberia again Siberia, Beyond impenetrable forest again forest. And beyond it waste ground, Where a blizzard of snow breaks loose. The blizzard has handcuffs, and the snow- Storm has a knife which kills at once…. I will die, pay a debt For others who live somewhere, Out of spite, out of fear and terror, […]...
21. Leaves The leaves are falling one and one, Each like a life to me, As over-soonly in the sun They spiral goldenly: So airily and warily They falter free. The leaves are falling two and two, Beneath a baleful sky; So silently the sward they strew, Reluctantly they die. . . Rich crimson leaves, and no […]...
22. Nine Things It’s night And a numbered beauty Lapses at the wind, Chortles with the Branches of a tree, giggles, Plays shadow dance With a dead kite, Cajoles affection From falling leaves, And knows four Other things. One is the color Of your hair....
23. Apologia Is it thy will that I should wax and wane, Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey, And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day? Is it thy will – Love that I love so well – That my Soul’s House should be a tortured […]...
24. My Cancer Cure “A year to live,” the Doctor said; “There is no cure,” and shook his head. Ah me! I felt as good as dead. Yet quite resigned to fate was I, Thinking: “Well, since I have to die ‘Twill be beneath the open sky.” And so I sought a wildsome wood Wherein a lonely cabin stood, […]...
25. Distressed Haiku In a week or ten days The snow and ice Will melt from Cemetery Road. I’m coming! Don’t move! Once again it is April. Today is the day We would have been married Twenty-six years. I finished with April Halfway through March. You think that their Dying is the worst Thing that could happen. Then […]...
26. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!...
27. When Cold December WHEN cold December Froze to grisamber The jangling bells on the sweet rose-trees Then fading slow And furred is the snow As the almond’s sweet husk And smelling like musk. The snow amygdaline Under the eglantine Where the bristling stars shine Like a gilt porcupine The snow confesses The little Princesses On their small chioppines […]...
28. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
29. Snow White's Acne At first she was sure it was just a bit of dried strawberry juice, Or a fleck of her mother’s red nail polish that had flaked off When she’d patted her daughter to sleep the night before. But as she scrubbed, Snow felt a bump, something festering Under the surface, like a tapeworm curled up […]...
30. Exhilaration is the Breeze Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found Returns us not, but after time We soberly descend A little newer for the term Upon Enchanted Ground...
31. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
32. The Baby's Dance Dance little baby, dance up high, Never mind baby, mother is by; Crow and caper, caper and crow, There little baby, there you go; Up to the ceiling, down to the ground, Backwards and forwards, round and round; Dance little baby, and mother shall sing, With the merry coral, ding, ding, ding....
33. A Child of the Snows There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim, And never before or again, When the nights are strong with a darkness long, And the dark is alive with rain. Never we know but in sleet and in snow, The place where the great fires are, That the midst of the earth is a […]...
34. The Gladness of Nature Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother Nature laughs around; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his […]...
35. March 26, 1974 R. Frost 100th B’day The air was soft, the ground still cold. In wet dull pastures where I strolled Was something I could not believe. Dead grass appeared to slide and heave, Though still too frozen-flat to stir, And rocks to twitch, and all to blur. What was this rippling of the land? Was matter […]...
36. He Wishes His Beloved Were Dead Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the West, You would come hither, and bend your head, And I would lay my head on your breast; And you would murmur tender words, Forgiving me, because you were dead: Nor would you rise and hasten away, Though you have the […]...
37. The Onset Always the same, when on a fated night At last the gathered snow lets down as white As may be in dark woods, and with a song It shall not make again all winter long Of hissing on the yet uncovered ground, I almost stumble looking up and round, As one who overtaken by the […]...
38. "In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth – Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? – Portent in little, assorted death and blight Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth? – The beady spider, the flower like […]...
39. I cannot be ashamed I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer Magnitude Reverses Modesty And I cannot be proud Because a Height so high Involves Alpine Requirements And Services of Snow....
40. A Winter's Tale Yesterday the fields were only grey with scattered snow, And now the longest grass-leaves hardly emerge; Yet her deep footsteps mark the snow, and go On towards the pines at the hills’ white verge. I cannot see her, since the mist’s white scarf Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky; But she’s waiting, […]...