large/1856/good_hours_librivox_64kb_mp3/goodhours_frost_jg_64kb_1
large/1856/good_hours_librivox_64kb_mp3/goodhours_frost_jg_64kb
English
1856
I turned and repented, but coming back I saw no window but that was black. I TURNED AND REPENTED BUT COMING BACK I SAW NO WINDOW BUT THAT WAS BLACK
snow looped near it. And it was older sure than this year's cutting, Or even last year's or the year's before. The wood was grey and the bark warping off it And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle. What held it though on one side was a tree Still growing, and on one a stake and prop, These latter about to fall. I thought that only Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks Could so forget his handiwork on which He spent himself, the labour of his axe, And leave it there far from a useful fireplace To warm the frozen swamp as best it could With the slow smokeless burning of decay. Good Hours I HAD for my winter evening walk-- No one at all with whom to talk, But I had the cottages in a row Up to their shining eyes in snow. And I thought I had the folk within: I had the sound of a violin; I had a glimpse through curtain laces Of youthful forms and youthful faces. I had such company outward bound. I went till there were no cottages found.  GOOD HOURS BY ROBERT FROST READ FOR LIBRARY BOX BY JANNUS GREEN HEMMINGWAY SOUTH CAROLINA I HAD FOR MY WINTER EVENING WALK NO ONE AT ALL WITH WHOM TO TALK BUT I HAD THE COTTAGES IN A ROW UP TO THEIR SHINING EYES IN SNOW AND I THOUGHT I HAD THE FOLK WITHIN I HAD THE SOUND OF A VIOLIN I HAD A GLIMPSE THROUGH CURTAINED LACES OF USEFUL FORMS AND USEFUL FACES I HAD SUCH COMPANY OUTWARD BOUND I WENT TILL THERE WERE NO COTTAGES FOUND
large/1856/good_hours_librivox_64kb_mp3/goodhours_frost_jg_64kb
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