Dead Poets Society, Entry #6, Robert Frost

For starters, I want to thank the (wow!) 20 people who entered on this blog since I was last here. There are hundreds of things to blog about today, and I am sincerely overwhelmed. So, I suppose it is fitting to go back to a simpler time and a simpler man. Like most of you, I feel asleep in high school English class at Glenvar High School in Salem, Va., (I am in Salem again at the moment. I may be the only person who is not a truck driver who travels between Virginia and North Carolina as much as I do) at the mere mention of the name of Robert Frost (1874-1963). I am on the verge of falling asleep now as well, but it has nothing to do with this legendary New England poet. Today's selection from Frost is entitled "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

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

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of 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,
Abd miles to go before I sleep.

For those of you who have an entire summer vacation, and have decided not to go to Daytona Beach, you may want to visit Robert Frost's home in South Shaftsbury, Vt.
Info on the historic home as well as much more info about the poet who gave us such top 10 hits as "Fire and Ice" and "Nothing Gold Can Stay" can be found at:

http: //www.frostfriends.org