A BOY'S WILL
NORTH OF BOSTON
MOUNTAIN INTERVAL
SELECTED POEMS
NEW HAMPSHIRE
NEW HAMPSHIRE
A POEM WITH NOTES
AND GRACE NOTES BY
ROBERT FROST
WITH WOODCUTS
BY J. J. LANKES
PUBLISHED BY
HENRY HOLT
& COMPANY : NEW
YORK : MCMXXIII
Copyright, 1923
BY
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
_First Printing, October, 1923_
_Second Printing, January, 1924_
_Third Printing, May, 1924_
_Fourth Printing, November, 1924_
_Fifth Printing, December, 1926_
_Sixth Printing, April, 1928_
_To_
VERMONT AND MICHIGAN
NEW HAMPSHIRE
New Hampshire 3
NOTES
A Star in a Stone-boat 21
The Census-taker 24
The Star-splitter 27
Maple 31
The Axe-helve 37
The Grindstone 41
Paul's Wife 44
Wild Grapes 49
Place for a Third 53
Two Witches 56
I. _The Witch of Coös_ 56
II. _The Pauper Witch of Grafton_ 61
An Empty Threat 65
A Fountain, a Bottle, a Donkey's Ears and Some Books 67
I Will Sing You One-O 73
GRACE NOTES
Fragmentary Blue 79
Fire and Ice 80
In a Disused Graveyard 81
Dust of Snow 82
To E. T. 83
Nothing Gold Can Stay 84
The Runaway 85
The Aim was Song 86
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening 87
For Once, Then, Something 88
Blue-Butterfly Day 89
The Onset 90
To Earthward 91
Good-Bye and Keep Cold 93
Two Look at Two 95
Not to Keep 97
A Brook in the City 98
The Kitchen Chimney 99
Looking for a Sunset Bird in Winter 100
A Boundless Moment 101
Evening in a Sugar Orchard 102
Gathering Leaves 103
The Valley's Singing Day 104
Misgiving 105
A Hillside Thaw 106
Plowmen 108
On a Tree Fallen Across the Road 109
Our Singing Strength 110
The Lockless Door 112
The Need of Being Versed in Country Things 113
I met a lady from the South who said
(You won't believe she said it, but she said it):
"None of my family ever worked, or had
A thing to sell." I don't suppose the work
Much matters. You may work for all of me.
I've seen the time I've had to work myself.
The having anything to sell[1] is what
Is the disgrace in man or state or nation.
I met a traveller from Arkansas
Who boasted of his state as beautiful
For diamonds and apples. "Diamonds
And apples in commercial quantities?"
I asked him, on my guard. "Oh yes," he answered,
Off his. The time was evening in the Pullman.
"I see the porter's made your bed," I told him.
I met a Californian who would
Talk California--a state so blessed,
He said, in climate none had ever died there
A natural death, and Vigilance Committees
Had had to organize to stock the graveyards
And vindicate the state's humanity.
"Just the way Steffanson runs on," I murmured,
"About the British Arctic. That's what comes
Of being in the market with a climate."
I met a poet from another state,
A zealot full of fluid inspiration,
Who in the name of fluid inspiration,
But in the best style of bad salesmanship,
Angrily tried to make me write a protest
(In verse I think) against the Volstead Act.
He didn't even offer me a drink
Until I asked for one to steady _him_.
This is called having an idea to sell.