My Favourite Poet
Author: Mattheus,MrCarLover1A133 // Category:
Well, I personally don't have a favourite poet, but after watching the video yesterday on figurative speech, I was pretty impressed with The Fox Of Boston. Thereafter, I read A Prayer In Spring, and was even more delighted with it. So I will be talking about Robert Frost.
The reason why Robert Frost is my favourite poet is because he writes with passion and his works are all very personal. When I read his poems, I can feel the feelings he is trying to put across. For example, when I read A Prayer In Spring, I could actually visualize the activity that was going on: The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
Robert Frost was given birth to in San Fransisco, California in the year 1874. His father died he was about 11 years old. He initially taught Latin at his mother's school, and in 1894, the New York Independent published his first ever poem, My Butterfly. After leaving Harvard without achieving a degree, he juggled a few jobs and sent in his poems to The Atlantic Monthly, a magazine. However, they were rejected describing his poems as "vigorous verses". Not giving up, he published his first collection of poems named, A BOY'S WILL. However, it was his second collection of poems(name unknown) that earned him international reputation. In 1916. he published his third collection of poems, MOUNTAIN INTERVAL. His wife died in 1938 and he lost four of his children. Two of his daughters suffered mental breakdowns, and his son Carol, a frustrated poet and farmer, committed suicide. Thereafter, he fell in love with another lady, and composed a love poem dedicated to her: A Witness Tree.
My threee favourite poems by him are, Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening, A Prayer in Spring, A Cliff Dwelling . I shall just type them in here.
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
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.
A Cliff Dwelling
There sandy seems the golden sky
And golden seems the sandy plain.
No habitation meets the eye
Unless in the horizon rim,
Some halfway up the limestone wall,
That spot of black is not a stain
Or shadow, but a cavern hole,
Where someone used to climb and crawl
To rest from his besetting fears.
I see the callus on his soul
The disappearing last of him
And of his race starvation slim,
Oh years ago - ten thousand years.
A Prayer In Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above '
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.
Sources:
http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/robert_frost/biography
http://www.online-literature.com/frost/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-cliff-dwelling/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-prayer-in-spring/
The reason why Robert Frost is my favourite poet is because he writes with passion and his works are all very personal. When I read his poems, I can feel the feelings he is trying to put across. For example, when I read A Prayer In Spring, I could actually visualize the activity that was going on: The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill, And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
Robert Frost was given birth to in San Fransisco, California in the year 1874. His father died he was about 11 years old. He initially taught Latin at his mother's school, and in 1894, the New York Independent published his first ever poem, My Butterfly. After leaving Harvard without achieving a degree, he juggled a few jobs and sent in his poems to The Atlantic Monthly, a magazine. However, they were rejected describing his poems as "vigorous verses". Not giving up, he published his first collection of poems named, A BOY'S WILL. However, it was his second collection of poems(name unknown) that earned him international reputation. In 1916. he published his third collection of poems, MOUNTAIN INTERVAL. His wife died in 1938 and he lost four of his children. Two of his daughters suffered mental breakdowns, and his son Carol, a frustrated poet and farmer, committed suicide. Thereafter, he fell in love with another lady, and composed a love poem dedicated to her: A Witness Tree.
My threee favourite poems by him are, Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening, A Prayer in Spring, A Cliff Dwelling . I shall just type them in here.
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
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.
A Cliff Dwelling
There sandy seems the golden sky
And golden seems the sandy plain.
No habitation meets the eye
Unless in the horizon rim,
Some halfway up the limestone wall,
That spot of black is not a stain
Or shadow, but a cavern hole,
Where someone used to climb and crawl
To rest from his besetting fears.
I see the callus on his soul
The disappearing last of him
And of his race starvation slim,
Oh years ago - ten thousand years.
A Prayer In Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above '
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.
Sources:
http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/robert_frost/biography
http://www.online-literature.com/frost/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-cliff-dwelling/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-prayer-in-spring/
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