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Frost's "Perfect" Poem

 
 
Reply Sat 22 Oct, 2005 12:10 am
Well we all know there can't be a "perfect" poem, but Robert Frost's Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening has been regarded by some as one of the closest known poems to perfection. What do you think? Observe...

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

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.

Robert Frost


Quotes from the enclosed website:
"The most amazing thing about this work is that three of the fifteen lines (the last line repeats the previous one) are transformations from other poems. "He gives his harness bells a shake" comes from Scott's "The Rover" (in Palgrave): "He gave the bridle-reins a shake.: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep" comes from Thomas Lovell Beddoes' "The Phantom Wooer": "Our bed is lovely, dark, and sweet." The concluding "And miles to go before I sleep" comes from Keats' "Keen Fitful Gusts": "And I have many miles on foot to fare." Though these three lines are variations from other poets, Frost, writing in the tradition of English verse, makes them original and new, and integrates them perfectly into his own poem." -Jefferey Meyers

"The reader will notice along with this that the first line consists entirely of monosyllables. Typically, monosyllabic lines are difficult to scan, yet Frost, having written the poem almost entirely in monosyllables demonstrates by this his technical prowess, as the poem scans in perfect iambic tetrameter. And so, any lack of certainty we might first suspect is smoothed over by this regular rhythm. Frost, likewise, stabilizes the poem by the rhyme scheme of aaba/ bbcb/ ccdc/ dddd, without a single forced rhyme. This combination of regular rhythms and rhymes produces a pleasant hypnotic effect, which only increases as the poem progresses." -Clint Stevens

"In this second stanza the unbroken curve of rhythm adds to the sense of moving imperceptibly into a spell-world, as we dimly note the linking of the rhymes with the first stanza. The pattern is catching on to the reader, pulling him into its drowsy current." -Reuben Brower


Various breakdowns by experts
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Type: Discussion • Score: 2 • Views: 1,731 • Replies: 19
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AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Sat 22 Oct, 2005 02:15 am
If I understood you correctly Question Today we call that a Patchwork Poem.

Here is an example:

Hope Over Doubt
W.T.Delamar

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
Still do the stars impart their light.
What is your substance, where of are you made?
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife
To see the world in a grain of sand.

Say not the struggle naught availeth.
He that is down needs fear no fall.
All is best, though we oft doubt.
Go and catch a falling star.


Lines:
1-"Sonnet ii" (William Shakespeare)
2-"Falsehood" (William Cartwright)
3-"Sonnet v" (William Shakespeare)
4-"Answer" (Sir Walter Scott)
5-"Augeries of Innocence" (William Blake)
6-"Say not the Struggle Naught (Arthur Hugh Clough)
7-"The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of Humiliation" (John Bunyan)
8-"Samson Agonistes ii" (John Milton)
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Sat 22 Oct, 2005 04:02 pm
I've never heard of an embedded poem;I blame my english teacher...
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AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Sat 22 Oct, 2005 10:50 pm
Don't blame anybody CD. She/he is approaching it from a different angle thats all.
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Sun 23 Oct, 2005 08:00 pm
Well it's one of my favorites regardless...
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Wed 9 Nov, 2005 06:29 pm
Well this thread is featured all of a sudden, so let's talk about somthing people! I'll start:
Cheesy Poofs! I love cheesy poofs, don't you?
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Wed 9 Nov, 2005 06:49 pm
Of course you do, but that's beside the point. The real topic here is Robert Frost. I believe he is the greatest American poet ever. Anyone else think so? If not, then who?
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AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Wed 9 Nov, 2005 06:58 pm
I like Frost too you know.*smiles*
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Lash
 
  1  
Reply Wed 9 Nov, 2005 09:07 pm
It's a toss up. Cartman is one of the most prolific catch-phrase linguists this world has ever known, but he does quiver unsteadily in the blazing righteous glow of Frost's bittersweet "Birches," and the simplistic, but solid, "Nothing Gold Can Stay."

Still, when I hear Cartman discuss religion and sexuality, Mel Gibson or authori-tah, I get hot.
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CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Wed 9 Nov, 2005 09:20 pm
Quote:
...in the blazing righteous glow of Frost's bittersweet "Birches," and the simplistic, but solid, "Nothing Gold Can Stay."

Absolutely, both of those are great. I especially like 'Nothing Gold Can Stay.'

Quote:
Still, when I hear Cartman discuss religion and sexuality, Mel Gibson or authori-tah, I get hot.

Too true...
0 Replies
 
Linkat
 
  1  
Reply Thu 10 Nov, 2005 11:26 am
I am far from a poetry expert, but I do love many of Frost's poems. Stopping by a woods... is possibly my favorite too. I still have it memorized from my high school english class.

So whether it is "perfect" or not - I am not qualified to say, but I personally love the poem.
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Sun 13 Nov, 2005 03:23 am
The 'perfect' was just an attention-grabbing title and my description of the amazing structure of this poem. I really shouldn't have used that word, sorry.
0 Replies
 
Joe Nation
 
  1  
Reply Sun 13 Nov, 2005 04:53 am
We were out on the little one and half lane road that leads past the cabin and down to the lake. It was the New Year now, midnight just past, and the six or eight of us were on a stroll to clear our heads of too much food, too much woodsmoke and too much booze. As if on cue, hugh snowflakes began to drift down out of the gray nightsky and we held our faces up to them like children in a schoolyard do when the first snow falls. We walked down to the dock and stared out at the blackness of the lake then turned and looked up the tree covered hill to the cabin with it's lit-up windows and Christmas lights just visible through the drifting flakes.

"Who's woods these are I think I know..." I began. At that point I don't think I even knew if I knew the rest of the poem, but I had begun and I carried on. Somewhere from deep in the folds on my brain the winter's afternoon of readings in Mr. Woodbury's English class came drifting up as the snow came drifting down and I spoke each line as they came to me.
"He gives his harness bells a shake..." We all were looking at the trees getting covered in white. "The only other sound's the sweep...." All around us was the New Year and the woods "lovely, dark and deep." I held my glass up a little higher. "...before I sleep. Miles to go before I sleep."

Yes. It's a perfect poem. It waits for perfect moments to appear and reminds us all to linger, but not for long.

Joe(snowhead)Nation
0 Replies
 
Linkat
 
  1  
Reply Mon 14 Nov, 2005 12:21 pm
Joe - I know how you feel - I have done the same thing with this poem too.
0 Replies
 
Joe Nation
 
  1  
Reply Mon 14 Nov, 2005 07:56 pm
The best poems are moments, my opinion, "Stopping...." is just a great moment. Guy stops on a lonely road to watch a little snowfall, then goes on with his life.

So bare. And true.

Joe(lovely, dark and deep)Nation
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Nov, 2005 11:43 am
I agree wholeheartedly Very Happy
0 Replies
 
dagmaraka
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Nov, 2005 12:43 pm
This is how my guilty subconsciousness altered the poem:

Stopping by a Bookstore on a Snowy Evening

Whose books these are I think I know.
He's down in the library though;
He will not see me stopping here
To browse his books, watch pages glow.
My computer must think it queer
To stop without an outlet near
On the way from an office break
The darkest evening of the year.
He makes his whistles and bells shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the deep
sound of battery hum, slight quake.
The books are lovely, bright and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to write before I sleep,
And miles to write before I sleep
0 Replies
 
AngeliqueEast
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Nov, 2005 02:01 pm
Brava!
0 Replies
 
Joe Nation
 
  1  
Reply Fri 18 Nov, 2005 04:47 am
Dag!

That's genius!

Joe
0 Replies
 
CrazyDiamond
 
  1  
Reply Sun 20 Nov, 2005 12:55 pm
Anybody got any other contenders for greatest U.S. poet? Walt Whitman? Emily Dickenson? Langston Hughes? How about T.S. Eliot? There's alot of good ones...
I still think Frost is the best. :wink:
0 Replies
 
 

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