Fear poems
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A Brook in the City
© Robert Frost
The firm house lingers, though averse to square
With the new city street it has to wear A number in.
But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow-crook?
I ask as one who knew the brook, its strength
The Wood-Pile
© Robert Frost
Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day
I paused and said, 'I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther- and we shall see'.
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
Mr. What's-His-Name
© James Whitcomb Riley
They called him Mr. What's-his-name:
From where he was, or why he came,
Or when, or what he found to do,
Nobody in the city knew.
The Gum-Gatherer
© Robert Frost
There overtook me and drew me in
To his down-hill, early-morning stride,
And set me five miles on my road
Better than if he had had me ride,
The Bonfire
© Robert Frost
Scare you. But if you shrink from being scared,
What would you say to war if it should come?
Thats what for reasons I should like to know
If you can comfort me by any answer.
Browns Descent
© Robert Frost
Brown lived at such a lofty farm
That everyone for miles could see
His lantern when he did his chores
In winter after half-past three.
An Encounter
© Robert Frost
ONCE on the kind of day called weather breeder,
When the heat slowly hazes and the sun
By its own power seems to be undone,
I was half boring through, half climbing through
Written to be Spoken by Mrs. Siddons
© Samuel Rogers
Yes, 'tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain!
I wake, I breathe, and am myself again.
Still in this nether world; no seraph yet!
Nor walks my spirit, when the sun is set,
An Epistle Of The Right Honourable Sir Robert Walpole
© Richard Savage
As the rich cloud by due degrees expands,
And show'rs down plenty thick on sundry lands,
Thy spreading worth in various bounty fell,
Made genius flourish, and made art excel.
A Cliff Dwelling
© Robert Frost
There sandy seems the golden sky
And golden seems the sandy plain.
No habitation meets the eye
Unless in the horizon rim,
The Peaceful Shepherd
© Robert Frost
If heaven were to do again,
And on the pasture bars,
I leaned to line the figures in
Between the dotted starts,
The Hill Wife
© Robert Frost
One ought not to have to care
So much as you and I
Care when the birds come round the house
To seem to say good-bye;
Orpheus
© Edith Wharton
Love will make men dare to die for their beloved. . . Of this
Alcestis is a monument . . . for she was willing to lay down her
life for her husband . . . and so noble did this appear to the gods
that they granted her the privilege of returning to earth . . . but
Orpheus, the son of OEagrus, they sent empty away. . .
The Egg and the Machine
© Robert Frost
He gave the solid rail a hateful kick.
From far away there came an answering tick
And then another tick. He knew the code:
His hate had roused an engine up the road.
Song Of The Violet
© William Makepeace Thackeray
A humble flower long time I pined
Upon the solitary plain,
New Hampshire
© Robert Frost
Just specimens is all New Hampshire has,
One each of everything as in a showcase,
Which naturally she doesn't care to sell.
When You Are On The Sea
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
How can I laugh or dance as others do,
Or ply my rock or reel?
My Butterfly
© Robert Frost
When that was, the soft mist
Of my regret hung not on all the land,
And I was glad for thee,
And glad for me, I wist.
Bond and Free
© Robert Frost
Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about--
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Though has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.
Blueberries
© Robert Frost
"You ought to have seen what I saw on my way
To the village, through Mortenson's pasture to-day:
Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb,
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum
