Robert frost

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Robert Lee Frost One of the best poets of our time….

Transcript of Robert frost

Page 1: Robert  frost

Robert Lee Frost

One of the best poets of our time….

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Maharishi Dayanand public school

Name: gautam kumarClass: XRoll no: 1Subject: English litleture and compositionFa1 activity

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Biography

• Born: March 26, 1874 , San Francisco, California, US.

• Died: January 29, 1963 Boston, Massachusetts, US.

• Occupation: Poet, playwright.• Children: Elliot, Lesley, Carol, Irma,

Marjorie, Elinor Bettina.• Signature:

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Robert Lee Frost was an American poet. His work was published in England. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. In 1894 he sold his first poem,"My Butterfly. An Elegy" (published in the November 8, 1894, edition of the New York Independent) for $15 ($409 today). His worked frequently from rural life in England in the early 18th century, using social and philosophical themes. One of the most popular and critically respected American, Frost was honored four by Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry and Congressional Medal etc..

Biography

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Selected works

1. A Boy's Will (David Nutt 1913;Holt, 1915)2. North of Boston (David Nutt, 1914; Holt, 1914) 3. Mountain Interval (Holt, 1916) 4. The Runaway5. New Hampshire (Holt, 1923; Grant Richards, 1924)6. West-Running Brook (Holt, 1928? 1929)7. The Lovely Shall Be Choosers, The Poetry Quartos, printed

and illustrated by Paul Johnston (Random House, 1929)8. Collected Poems of Robert Frost (Holt, 1930; Longmans,

Green, 1930)9. The Lone Striker (Knopf, 1933)10. Selected Poems: Third Edition (Holt, 1934)

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Collections

The OnsetTwo Look at TwoNothing Gold Can StayNew HampshireThe Axe-HelveThe Grind-StoneThe Witch of CoosThe Pauper Witch of GraftonA Star In A Stone BoatThe Star SplitterIn A Disused GraveyardFragmentary Blue

Tree at my Window

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THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,And having perhaps the better claimBecause it was grassy and wanted wear,Though as for that the passing thereHad worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally layIn leaves no step had trodden black.Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to wayI doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sighSomewhere 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…

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ANALYSIS

"The Road Not Taken" is a narrative and autobiographical poem.Frost's biographer is also cited as saying that the speaker of the poem is "one who usually wastes energy in regretting any choice made: too late but wistfully he sighs over the attractive alternative rejected."While a case could be made for the sigh being one of satisfaction, given the critical support of the 'regret' analysis it seems fair to say that this poem is about the human tendency to look back and attribute blame to minor events in one's life, or to attribute more meaning to things than they may deserve.

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STOPPING BY WOODS BY SNOWNY EVENING

Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.The only other sound's the sweepOf easy wind and downy flake.

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

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ANALYSIS………………..

On the surface, this poem is simplicity itself. The speaker is stopping by some woods on a snowy evening. He takes in the lovely scene in near-silence, is tempted to stay longer, but acknowledges the pull of obligations and the considerable distance yet to be traveled before he can rest for the night.

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Once by the Pacific

The shattered water made a misty din. Great waves looked over others coming in, And thought of doing something to the shore That water never did to land before.

The clouds were low and hairy in the skies, Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.

You could not tell, and yet it looked as if The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff, The cliff in being backed by continent; It looked as if a night of dark intent .

Was coming, and not only a night, an age,Someone had better be prepared for rage,There would be more than ocean-water broken, Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.

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Summary ... The narrator describes a night on an ocean

beach when the ocean waves seem to be preparing to destroy the land and its people. The shore, cliff, and continent are allied together against the threat of the oncoming storm, but the narrator doubts that they will be successful at quelling the destructive force of the ocean. Moreover, this destruction will not last a single night, but rather for an “age” - perhaps even at the direct order of a higher power.

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Thank youThe End