Modern American Poetry: An Introduction

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Louis Untermeyer
Harcourt, Bruce and Howe, 1919 - 170 páginas

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Página 88 - I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference. —ROBERT FROST Chapter 2 Energy Strategy: The Road Not Taken?
Página 83 - I came to view the levelled scene. I looked for him behind an isle of trees; I listened for his whetstone on the breeze. But he had gone his way, the grass all mown, And I must be, as he had been, - alone, 'As all must be,' I said within my heart, 'Whether they work together or apart.
Página 10 - The color of the ground was in him, the red earth; The smack and tang of elemental things...
Página 104 - The lost, that in armies wept over your funeral pall? They call on the names of a hundred high-valiant ones, A hundred white eagles have risen the sons of your sons, The zeal in their wings is a zeal that your dreaming began The valor that wore out your soul in the service of man.
Página 81 - MENDING WALL Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it And spills the upper boulders in the sun, And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
Página 16 - a-chippin' an' a-sawin'; An' all de wicked neighbors kep' a-laughin' an' a-pshawin'; But Noah didn't min' 'em, knowin' whut wuz gwine to happen : An' forty days an' forty nights de rain it kep' a-drappin'. Now, Noah had done cotched a lot ob ebry sort o' beas'es — Ob all de shows a-trabbelin', it beat 'em all to pieces! He had a Morgan colt an' sebral head o' Jarsey cattle — An' druv 'em 'board de Ark as soon 's he heered de thunder rattle.
Página 152 - I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air— I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
Página 87 - THE ROAD NOT TAKEN Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth...
Página 101 - ... hand-maimed host. Hear how the demons chuckle and yell Cutting his hands off, down in Hell. Listen to the creepy proclamation, Blown through the lairs of the forest-nation, Blown past the white-ants...
Página 37 - To what new fates, my country, far And unforeseen of foe or friend, Beneath what unexpected star Compelled to what unchosen end, Across the sea that knows no beach, The Admiral of Nations guides Thy blind obedient keels to reach The harbor where thy future rides! The guns that spoke at Lexington Knew not that God was planning then The trumpet word of Jefferson To bugle forth the rights of men.

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