I had for my winter evening walk_
No one at all with whom to talk,
But i had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.
And i thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.
I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.
Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation by your leave
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.
Comments
I love Frost
and I love this poem.
I love how his poems appear simple, yet are very often not.
Does he see the people here, or is he just imagining what they might be like and are doing?
Does he walk beyond the settlement into the dark and as it's late, folk have settled down for the night, so all is quiet when he returns?
Is he looking at life, going beyond it's 'norms' and then finds he can't get back into it?
Haunting really.
Jx
Hi Jane
I think his poetry is excellent when just taken at face value. But it's that 2nd and 3rd level which often comes with further thought that separates him from so many other poets that astounds me.
.
.
Well......
he wasn't exactly a spring chicken when he left and I have no idea why he never got a Nobel.......stan
Hi Mark
It IS pretty neat ain't it? I copied this exactly as it is written in one of the many books of Frost's poems. For whatever reason he began each line of this with a capital letter. That lower case i was a typo on my part now corrected, thanks for the spot........stan