Robert Frost

A head thrusts in as for the view,
But where it is it thrusts in from,
And what it is it thrusts into,
By what Cyb’laean avenue,
And what can of its coming come,

And whither it will be withdrawn,
And what take hence or leave behind,
These things the mind has pondered on
One moment and still asking gone,
Strange apparition of the mind!

But the impervious geode
Was entered and its inner crust
Of crystal with a ray cathode
At every point and facet glowed
In answer to the mental thrust.

Eyes seeking the response of eyes
Bring out the stars, bring out the flowers,
Thus concentrating earth and skies
So none need be afraid of size.
All revelation has been ours.

Robert Frost was an American poet and four-time recipient of the Pulitzer Prize. He died in 1963.
Originally published:
March 1, 1938


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