Robert Frost

A nagging question in Frost criticism in the half-century since the author’s death has been where to place him in the larger narrative of American poetry.

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

Back out of all this now too much for us,
Back in a time made simple by the loss
Of detail, burned, dissolved, and broken off

Lord, I have loved your sky,
Be it said against or for me,
Have loved it clear and high