Robert Frost
By Shane Coyle and Carson Mair
Birth and Death
One fact about Robert Frost
was that he was born on
March 26, 1874 in San
Francisco, California. Frost
later died January 29, 1963 in
Boston, Massachusetts.
 Early Life
When Frost was eleven, his father
died. This caused him to move to
Lawrence, Massachusetts. Frost
spent most of his time as a child with
his grandparents because his mother
went to teach in multiple schools in
Massachusetts and New Hampshire.
Robert Frost graduated from high
school in the year 1892 as
valedictorian along with the female
valedictorian, Elinor White, whom he
fell in love with.
Family
 Four of the six kids of
 Robert Frost’s died before
 him, one died in infancy and
 another died at the age of
 four due to a fever. The
 other two died to suicide
 and cholera.
Other Careers
   Robert Frost taught at many
   universities and colleges.
   Frost even owned a farm
   and raised up poultry.
Beginning of Poetry
  In high school, Robert Frost
  became drawn to reading and
  writing poetry. He wasn’t able to
  officially publish any poems until
  the 8th of November of 1894
  with the poem “My Butterfly”.
Famous Poetry
   Robert Frost had made a poem for
   John F Kennedy’s inauguration
   that he abandoned for a different
   one called “The Gift Outright”.
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could    And both that morning equally lay
To where it bent in the undergrowth;     In leaves no step had trodden black.
                                         Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Then took the other, as just as fair,    Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
And having perhaps the better claim,     I doubted if I should ever come back.
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there     I shall be telling this with a sigh
Had worn them really about the same,     Somewhere ages and ages hence:
                                         Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
                                         I took the one less traveled by,
                                         And that has made all the difference.
        “Time to Talk” by Robert Frost
 “When a friend calls me from the road
and slows his horse to a meaning walk
     I don‘t stand still and look around
        On all the hills I haven’t hoed
And shout from where I am, ‘What is it?’
       No, not as there is time to talk
  I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground
       Blade-end up and five feet tall
    And plod: I go up to the stone wall
              For a friendly visit
         The world was made for all
    And I will go to see the one I love”