Posted on 12/31/2009 7:41:18 AM PST by #1CTYankee
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
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.
“Why does a poem have to be symbolic?”
It definitely does not. An example is the many, many lyrics of music, especially popular music, much of which is ‘poetic’ because of its patterns.
The application of symbolism is the choice of the individual who reads, including the poet himself/herself who creates it.
Just as when one reads a story in the Bible the story may resonate with the reader on an individual level (and the very popular concept of small groups today, may cause individuals to share their experiences/reactions to various passages in the Bible) poetry is the same way; a different result/experience for each individual, including the individual who enjoys simply reading the words and picturing the scenes described.
As to Frost’s crafting; he was a wordsmith and very fine word craftsman so perhaps his poems sometimes drew him to work and rework them, and perhaps sometimes they flowed easily and did not entice him to rework them.
Fine poetry and writing usually does draw the writer in to working and reworking because the playing with words is to a writer the joy of the craft.
LOL (TM by IBM)
Could it be that the horse thought it queer to stay so long without some kind of sensory input?
Alas, the perception of things is different for us than that of a horse. ;-D
No worry here, not only will I not digress into some liberal interpretation I will also not provide my address for a flogging :-p
I am not very versed in Frost's work and not much of a reader of poetry.
Poe's works have made some inroads into my realm but only through the macabre stories in his complete collections.
The thinking was that of past days and times we miss, an analysis from my children has been quite insightful considering their age. (12 &;7)
I wish all my fellow FReepers a fruitful new year and try do our to our best to keep our country as our founders intended.
Yankee
We rest here while we can,
but we hear the ocean calling in our dreams,
And we know by the morning,
the wind will fill our sails to test the seams,
The calm is on the water
and part of us would linger by the shore,
For ships are safe in harbor,
but that's not what ships are for.
Funny, I learned so little in public school I'm surprised I've come this far.
If it were not for my 9th grade teacher introducing me to the novel Fahrenheit 451 I would never have attained a Lincoln level of education. ;-D
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe
To you as well, dinners on!
I like your interpretation.
I used to wonder how on earth, without being under the influence of drugs, could anyone have ever imagined a Raven saying “Nevermore”, until I moved to MA. We have ravens that sit on top of our houses that caw so loudly, it is VERY easy to imagine one saying that. They’re HUGH!
I think we studied this in high school, but not in depth-—and not studied in nursing. But I’ve always been a lover of poetry. “Best Loved Poems of the American People” being one of my favs.
All Frost poems have a beautiful simplicity. I don’t want to analyze them —— just feel them.
In this one, I can hear the soft sounds of the falling snow, as he pauses. Silence all around (except for the occasional snort and the breathing from his horse) I can feel the soft snow on my face and would just love to stay there soaking up the beauty and serenity that is all around me——but “I have promises to keep”.
There is something about being alone in soft falling snow. So quiet all around, yet you can hear the snow as it lands. Frost captures that moment for me with his words.
Thanks, Yankee, for posting this beautiful poem, We had to memorize it in third grade, and I love it still.
The very evocative ending:
“But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
A blessed New Year to you and your family.
Me too...:)
To me, it is just simpler and more pleasant!
Happy New Year!
I have a short attention span, if a subject doesn’t interest me. Bottom line is that, I really liked this poem and have a great love of reading. I’ve had both good and bad teachers. I learn so much more on FR then I ever did in school. Thank, God for FR. Marmar
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