By request, here's a few of my favorites by Robert Frost.

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she's here with me
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are as beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let mt stay.
She talks an I am faint to list:
She's glad the birds have gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reasons why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

Wind and Window Flower

Lover's, forget your love,
And list to the love of these.
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.

When the frosty window veil
Was melted down at noon,
And the cage'd yellow bird
Hung over her in tune,

He marked her through the pane
He could not help but mark,
And only passed her by,
To come again at dark.

He was a winter wind,
Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
And little of love could he know.

But he sighed upon the sill,
He gave the sash a shake,
As witness all within
Who lay that night awake.

Perchance he half prevailed
To win her for the flight
From firelit looking-glass
And warm stove-window light.

But the flower leaned aside
And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
A hundered miles away.

- posted by Jonathan@ 2:50 PM