eglantine_br (eglantine_br) wrote,
eglantine_br
eglantine_br

Robert Frost, for two things

I spent my childhood getting really sick of Robert Frost. There was something so deliberate about his mantle of the Yankee poet, all craggy and restrained. Nobody can spend quite that much time raking leaves and playing with wheelbarrows.

But tonight, I was trying to get some more done on my Marlowe thing-- and I realized that Marlowe made me think of this poem. Do you guys find it suits him?

Acquainted with the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have out walked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.



Tags: writing about writing instead of writing
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