Poetry & Shayari

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

When I see birches bend to left and right

Across the lines of straighter darker trees,

I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.

Ice-storms do that.

I'd like to get away from earth awhile

And then come back to it and begin over.

I taste a liquor never brewed -

From Tankards scooped in Pearl -

Not all the Vintners of the Summer

Could intoxicate me so -

Inebriate of Air - am I -

And Debauchee of Dew -

Reeling - through endless summer days -

From inns of Molten Blue -

The sleep that flits on baby's eyes - does anybody know where it was born?

It is faint like the yellow moonlight in a thin cloud,

It smells like a half-blown jasmine flower in the dusk.

It has a shadow that dances on the cradle leaves.