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Robert Frost Reader
Robert Frost Poetry and Edward C. Lathem and Lawrence Thompson Robert Frost Poetry and Holt, Rinehart and FIRST First Edition Thus, First Printing. Not price-clipped. Published by Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1972. Octavo. Paperback. Book is very good with toning on pages and shelf wear. 100% positive feedback. 30 day money back guarantee. NEXT DAY SHIPPING! Excellent customer service. Please email with any questions. All books packed carefully and ship with free delivery confirmation/tracking. All books come with free bookmarks. Ships from Sag Harbor, New York.Seller 329106 Biography & Letters We Buy Books! Collections - Libraries - Estates - Individual Titles. Message us if you have books to sell!
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1972
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
July 13, 2021
I've read select parts of this book about a hundred times but I just sat and went through the whole thing and made my little annotations and it made me super happy! good way to spend my day
February 6, 2019
To clarify my rating, this is a five star book. There is no doubt of that. It's a great book, but poetry is an art and as such is subjective from person to person. This just wasn't my cup of tea. I loved a handful of the poems in this book, so much so that I would read this again only for those handful of poems, but I had little to no interest in most of this book. It was even a bit hard for me to get through because of this. Wonderful artist/writer, but this book won't go into my collection. Sorry, Frost.
June 18, 2025
I really love Robert Frost. He's so easy to read.
April 9, 2013
This book provides a great insight not only into the collection of poetry of Robert Frost, but also into his developing personality and perspective. Robert starts out very insecure about his poetry and his continued source of inspiration, and then blossoms with confidence by asserting his own personality and views. His last poem and letter both question the meaning of life and affirm his desire to never let life go.
"...there's one thing I shan't write in the past, present, or future, and that is glad mad stuff or mad glad stuff. The conviction closes in on me that I was cast for gloom as the sparks fly upward, I was about to say: I am of deep shadow all compact like onion within onion and the savor of me is oil of tears...But I have not laughed. No man can tell you the sound or the way of my laughter."
"I say I have the right to tell anything-to talk about anything I am smart enough to find out about. Second, I am free to talk about anything I am deep enough to understand, and third, I am free to talk about anything I have the ability to talk about. The limitations on my freedom, you see, are more in myself than anywhere else."
Some of my favorite poems follow, though this book only contains a selection of poems from each publication, and I must get a hold of the full set of poems:
- October
- Reluctance
- The fear
- Birches
"...I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again..."
- A star in a stoneboat
- Wild grapes
"...I had not learned to let go with the hands,
As still I have not learned to with the heart,
And have no wish to with the heart-nor need,
That I can see. The mind is not the heart.
I may yet live as I know others live,
To wish in vain to let go with the mind-
Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me
That I need learn to let go with the heart."
- Nothing gold can stay
- The onset
- The lockless door
- A passing glimpse
- West-running brook
- The bear
- Carpe Diem
"Age saw two quiet children
Go loving by at twilight,
He knew not whether homeward,
Or outward from the village,
Or (chimes were ringing) churchward.
He waited (they were strangers)
Till they were out of hearing
To bod them both be happy.
"Be happy, happy, happy,
And seize the day of pleasure."
The age-long theme is Age's.
'Twas Age imposed on poems
Their gather-roses burden
To warn against the danger
That overtaken lovers
From being overflooded
With happiness should have it
And yet not know they have it
But bid life seize the present?
It lives less in the present
Than in the future always,
And less in both together
Than in the past. The present
Is too much for the senses,
Too crowding, too confusing
Too present to imagine."
- Escapist - Never
"He is no fugitive-escaped, escaping.
No one has seen him stumble looking back.
His fear is not behind him but beside him
On either hand to make his course perhaps
A crooked straightness yet no less a straightness.
He runs face forward. He is a pursuer.
He seeks a seeker who in his turn seeks
Another still, lost far into the distance.
Any who seek him seek in him the seeker.
His life is a pursuit of a pursuit forever.
It is the future that creates his present.
All is an interminable chain of longing."
- Forgive, O Lord
"Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me."
"...there's one thing I shan't write in the past, present, or future, and that is glad mad stuff or mad glad stuff. The conviction closes in on me that I was cast for gloom as the sparks fly upward, I was about to say: I am of deep shadow all compact like onion within onion and the savor of me is oil of tears...But I have not laughed. No man can tell you the sound or the way of my laughter."
"I say I have the right to tell anything-to talk about anything I am smart enough to find out about. Second, I am free to talk about anything I am deep enough to understand, and third, I am free to talk about anything I have the ability to talk about. The limitations on my freedom, you see, are more in myself than anywhere else."
Some of my favorite poems follow, though this book only contains a selection of poems from each publication, and I must get a hold of the full set of poems:
- October
- Reluctance
- The fear
- Birches
"...I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again..."
- A star in a stoneboat
- Wild grapes
"...I had not learned to let go with the hands,
As still I have not learned to with the heart,
And have no wish to with the heart-nor need,
That I can see. The mind is not the heart.
I may yet live as I know others live,
To wish in vain to let go with the mind-
Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me
That I need learn to let go with the heart."
- Nothing gold can stay
- The onset
- The lockless door
- A passing glimpse
- West-running brook
- The bear
- Carpe Diem
"Age saw two quiet children
Go loving by at twilight,
He knew not whether homeward,
Or outward from the village,
Or (chimes were ringing) churchward.
He waited (they were strangers)
Till they were out of hearing
To bod them both be happy.
"Be happy, happy, happy,
And seize the day of pleasure."
The age-long theme is Age's.
'Twas Age imposed on poems
Their gather-roses burden
To warn against the danger
That overtaken lovers
From being overflooded
With happiness should have it
And yet not know they have it
But bid life seize the present?
It lives less in the present
Than in the future always,
And less in both together
Than in the past. The present
Is too much for the senses,
Too crowding, too confusing
Too present to imagine."
- Escapist - Never
"He is no fugitive-escaped, escaping.
No one has seen him stumble looking back.
His fear is not behind him but beside him
On either hand to make his course perhaps
A crooked straightness yet no less a straightness.
He runs face forward. He is a pursuer.
He seeks a seeker who in his turn seeks
Another still, lost far into the distance.
Any who seek him seek in him the seeker.
His life is a pursuit of a pursuit forever.
It is the future that creates his present.
All is an interminable chain of longing."
- Forgive, O Lord
"Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me."
December 29, 2011
Frost is a master poet. Enough said.
December 21, 2012
from Chard DeNiord's presentation Oct. 2012
December 14, 2014
In beautiful, accessible language, Frost taps into just about every emotion known to humanity. I love the way his poems share deep insights using simple vivid images.
July 16, 2019
Just...I can't get into Robert Frost. Sorry.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews