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Robert

Who's woods these are I think I know....

About Me

My name is Robert Frost and I was born March 26, 1874. I was born in San Francisco. I was named by my father after the South's most famous general Robert E. Lee. My first job was working with my grandfather in the mills. The very first school I attended was the village school in Salem; after that I attended Lawrence High School and was the top student of the class of 1892. I started writing poetry when I was 16 years old. I would constantly just write random words that came to my mind. When I was nineteen I sent my first poem to a magazine called " The Independent." It got addepted and at that point in my life I knew writing poetry was what I really wanted to do. However, I needed income so I tried writing for the weekly newspaper " The Sentinel". After a few months I quit because I realized that I love writing what I feel, and "The Sentinel" felt more like I was prying into things that were none of my business!! In December 1895 I married the love of my life Elinor White. Soon after we had a son, Eliot, and I began to attend Harvard University hopeing to be able to teach college myself someday. That same year Eliot passed away, so I left Harvard. In 1900, I promised my granfather I would commit myself to working a farm for 10 years, if he would help pay for it. Eventually Elinor, myself, and our new baby daughter moved into a dairy farm in Derry, New Hampshire. I would write when the house was still and everything was quiet. I wrote "Mending Wall" and "October" during this time. Within the next five years I had three more children. During this time the director of the Pinkerton Academy heard me read one of my poems and asked me to teach an English class twice a week, every week. Our family needed the money for food so I agreed. After 10 years we decided to sell our farm and move to England. In 1912 my family and I moved into a small country farmhouse. I took thirty of my poems to a publisher in London, three days later I heard they had been accepted for a book. This is where my professional poet life began!! The books were reprinted in America and in 1914 my family and I returned to America. My inspiration for writing was birches, feilds, and mountains. Soon there after I was asked to teach and numerous colleges and universities, finally my dream of teaching college had come true!! In 1920 I helped sart a college called the Bread Loaf School of English, in Vermont. In 1923, I won a pulitzer Prize for my poem, "New Hampshire" in the years fallowing I won a total of three more. In 1957 I attended a dinner in England, where the incredible T.S. Eliot made a toast!!!!!! When I was 86 years old I read " The Gift Outright" at the inauguration of John F. Kennedy. In the years following I kept writing mainly for pleasure, because it's my favorate thing to do. These are the main points in my life that I think give everyone a pretty good idea of what kind of person I am, and what I love, based on the life that I have lead.Background: travel layout @ HOT FreeLayouts.com MyHotComments
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My Interests

I'd like to meet:

Jim Morrison, Bob Dylan, Kurt Kobain, The Crocadile Hunter, Quintin Tarantino, Robert DeNiro, Clint Eastwooda title="MySpace Graphics" href=http://www.allmyspacegraphics.com/ border="0" ..

My Blog

A Prayer In Spring

A Prayer in SpringOh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;And give us not to think so far awayAs the uncertain harvest; keep us hereAll simply in the springing of the year.Oh, give us pleasure in th...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 22:08:00 GMT

My first big break!!!!

  This poem was my first big break!!!!!  When the New York magazine published "My Butterfly" in 1894!! My Butterfly Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too,And the daft sun-assaulter, heTha...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 22:04:00 GMT

Death

I can not believe all of deaths that I have witnessed of those I love most...  ......In 1900 my son Eliot died of Cholera, that same year my mother died of cancer, in 1907 my last daughter Eleano...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:56:00 GMT

Ghost House

Ghost House I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but the cellar walls, And a cellar in which the daylight falls, And the purple-stemmed wild raspbe...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:52:00 GMT

Rose Pogonias

Rose PogoniasA saturated meadow,Sun-shaped and jewel-small,A circle scarcely widerThan the trees around were tall;Where winds were quite excluded,And the air was stifling sweetWith the breath of many ...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:43:00 GMT

Mending Wall

Mending Wall Something there is that doesn't love a wall,That sends the frozen-ground-swell under itAnd spills the upper boulder in the sun,And make gaps even two can pass abreast.The work of hunters...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:38:00 GMT

Stopping by Woods on a snowy Evening

..> ..> Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening..> .. language=JavaScript> .. if (navigator.userAgent.toLowerCase().indexOf("msie") != -1 && parseInt(navigator.appVersion) >= 4) doc...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Apr 2007 21:32:00 GMT