(5 November 1850 - 30 October 1919 / Johnstown Center / Rock County / Wisconsin)


The death-calm took ahold of me
Swift, without cacophony
A sweet proposition
Whispered in my ear, and
Ever slightly, echoed here
Softly, gently, tugging me
Come nigh the edge, thus I see
An edge, and down, a chasm
But what a chasm! -deep and black
Its edge and unrelenting knife-edge
And the ever dreamt release of death
To me gave new mechanism, for but to
Calm my soul, my restless soul.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Comments (1)

Striking portrayal of toil as inspiration.