Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” boasts what is likely one of the most well-known poetry verses, and that’s because its sentiment withstands time. The four-time Pulitzer Prize-winning American poet was a father to six children and, beyond writing poetry, worked as a lecturer and teacher at both Amherst College and the University of Michigan. He and his family also raised chickens on a farm in New Hampshire to make ends meet.
Frost’s poems did not immediately find success in America; the poet moved with his family to London in 1912, where publishers were more excited by his work. Within a year, Frost was able to publish his first book, “A Boy’s Will,” a collection of his poetry. Frost’s poems touched upon many different themes, especially ordinary, rural life, and very often they focused on humans’ interactions with the natural world.
While Frost’s personal relationship with nature isn’t well-documented, his work reflects a desire to reconcile the contradictions between the human experience and the great outdoors. Frost consistently used different aspects of nature as metaphors for life and death. Below are some of his most well-regarded verses.
“He says the best way out is always through.
And I agree to that, or in so far
As that I can see no way out but through—
Leastways for me — and then they’ll be convinced.”
― Robert Frost, “A Servant to Servants”
On Taking the Road Less Traveled
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
― Robert Frost, “The Road Not Taken”
On Nature's Temptation
"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.”
— Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
On the Magic of Stargazing
"How countlessly they congregate
O'er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!"
— Robert Frost, “Stars”
On the World's Fleeting Beauty
"Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour."
— Robert Frost, “Nothing Gold Can Stay”
On Planting Roots
"My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone."
— Robert Frost, “The Sound of the Trees”