The Runaway- Robert Frost
ONCE when the snow of the year was beginning to fall, We stopped by a mountain pasture to say, “Whose colt?” A little Morgan had one forefoot on the wall, The other curled at his breast. He dipped his head And snorted to us. And then we saw him bolt. 5 We heard the miniature thunder where he fled, And we saw him, or thought we saw him, dim and gray, Like a shadow across instead of behind the flakes. The little fellow’s afraid of the falling snow. He never saw it before. It isn’t play 10 With the little fellow at all. He’s running away. He wouldn’t believe when his mother told him, ‘Sakes, It’s only weather.’ He thought she didn’t know! So this is something he has to bear alone And now he comes again with a clatter of stone, 15 He mounts the wall again with whited eyes Dilated nostrils, and tail held straight up straight. He shudders his coat as if to throw off flies. “Whoever it is that leaves him out so late, When all other creatures have gone to stall and bin, 20 Ought to be told to come and take him in.”
I chose this poem because it's by an author we learned about. Robert Frost wrote this poem, the cover of the book is of a horse. I really like the way the poem flows, I think the whole thing is very nice.
The Haunted Palace- Edgar Allan Poe
In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace — Radiant palace — reared its head. In the monarch Thought’s dominion — It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow, (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago,) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute’s well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting (Porphyrogene!) In state his glory well-befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch’s high estate. (Ah, let us mourn! — for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh — but smile no more.
Alone- Edgar Allan Poe
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
I chose this poem by Edgar Allan Poe because growing up I always felt like I was alone in how I felt. But now I realize that I'm not, a lot of people suffer from anxiety and depression. I don't feel alone anymore. This was Edgar's way of explaining what it's like to feel alone.
I chose this poe