If, as they say, some dust thrown in my eyes
Will keep my talk from getting overwise,
I’m not the one for putting off the proof.
Let it be overwhelming, off a roof
And round a corner, blizzard snow for dust,
And blind me to a standstill if it must.
(Robert Frost)
More Poetry from Robert Frost:
- After Apple Picking (Robert Frost Poems)
- A Considerable Speck (Robert Frost Poems)
- In white: Frost's Early Version of Design (Robert Frost Poems)
- The Vanishing Red (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Generations of Men (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Grindstone (Robert Frost Poem)