The Vantage Point
Robert Frost
Acquainted With the Night
The Armful
The Black Cottage
Blue-Butterfly Day
A Boundless Moment
The Code
The Death of the Hired Man
Departmental
The Door in the Dark
A Dream Pang
Dust of Snow
Evening in a Sugar Orchard
Fire and Ice
Flower-Gathering
Fragmentary Blue
The Generations of Men
Ghost House
In Hardwood Groves
In Neglect
Into My Own
The Kitchen Chimney
Love and a Question
Mending Wall
The Mountain
My Butterfly
My November Guest
Nothing Gold Can Stay
October
The Onset
Out, Out --
The Oven Bird
Pan with Us
A Patch of Old Snow
A Peck of Gold
A Prayer in Spring
Reluctance
Revelation
The Road Not Taken
Sand Dunes
Spring Pools
Stars
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
The Thatch
To E.T.
The Trial by Existence
The Tuft of Flowers
The Vanishing Red
The Vantage Point
A Winter Eden
The Wood-Pile
If tires of trees I seek again mankind, Well I know where to hie me--in the dawn, To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn. There amid loggin juniper reclined, Myself unseen, I see in white defined Far off the homes of men, and farther still, The graves of men on an opposing hill, Living or dead, whichever are to mind. And if by noon I have too much of these, I have but to turn on my arm, and lo, The sun-burned hillside sets my face aglow, My breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze, I smell the earth, I smell the bruis�d plant, I look into the crater of the ant.