Essay About Robert Frost
ROBERT FROST
If you walk down a road in mid-winter under a bright blue starry sky, with the air so called it seems to thaw only as you breathe in, you see mountains piled up against each other, stone fences stretching across fields of dried cornstalks ,and white birches with crackling black branches. Your feet crunch against the snow ,while the crow caws ,caws ,caws about the called. This is the world of Robert frost`s poetry.—snow ,and crows and birches, as well as brooks and asters and hayfields and autumn leaves. Seldom has a poet been so identified with a region as Robert frost has with new England, though he himself would not have claimed this. His poems have the feel of sudden lines that surprised him. You catch a poem as it comes, he once said. What he caught where new England- and about life. On march 26,1874,frost was born in Sanfransisco, which is about as far as you can get from new England and still be in the continental united states. Frost`s father was a journalist who edited a city news paper, and his mother was a teacher. Frost eventually tried his hand at both professions. His father was born in the south but moved to New Hampshire to become a journalist. He left the region during the civil war and moved to California. As if to tweak the nose of new England , he named his son after the South`s most famous general , Robert .e. lee. But after his fathers death in 1885, eleven year old Robert, his sister Jeanie ,and their mother returned to new England. The family had no money , so they lived with Robert`s grandfather in Lawrence ,Masachusets. It is never easy to return home, though. Frost hated his work as a bobbin boy in his grandfather`s mills. He disliked his grandfather`s strictness and the way he made frost mother made responsible for his father`s death. Soon his mother
If you walk down a road in mid-winter under a bright blue starry sky, with the air so called it seems to thaw only as you breathe in, you see mountains piled up against each other, stone fences stretching across fields of dried cornstalks ,and white birches with crackling black branches. Your feet crunch against the snow ,while the crow caws ,caws ,caws about the called. This is the world of Robert frost`s poetry.—snow ,and crows and birches, as well as brooks and asters and hayfields and autumn leaves. Seldom has a poet been so identified with a region as Robert frost has with new England, though he himself would not have claimed this. His poems have the feel of sudden lines that surprised him. You catch a poem as it comes, he once said. What he caught where new England- and about life. On march 26,1874,frost was born in Sanfransisco, which is about as far as you can get from new England and still be in the continental united states. Frost`s father was a journalist who edited a city news paper, and his mother was a teacher. Frost eventually tried his hand at both professions. His father was born in the south but moved to New Hampshire to become a journalist. He left the region during the civil war and moved to California. As if to tweak the nose of new England , he named his son after the South`s most famous general , Robert .e. lee. But after his fathers death in 1885, eleven year old Robert, his sister Jeanie ,and their mother returned to new England. The family had no money , so they lived with Robert`s grandfather in Lawrence ,Masachusets. It is never easy to return home, though. Frost hated his work as a bobbin boy in his grandfather`s mills. He disliked his grandfather`s strictness and the way he made frost mother made responsible for his father`s death. Soon his mother