Robert Frost Obviously Went to College

Last night I went to bed at 5 a.m. Then I woke up at 8 a.m., went to school, had an exam, a major paper due, a handful of assignments, and an event. Now I sit here at the computer, having reached the "other side" and am looking longingly at my bed. And I will go to sleep. But before that I thought I'd do a quick blog post. Because who doesn't love a blog post?

The last entry for the LEP was upbeat, chipper, and sprinkled with rainbow dust and butterflies. While this one isn't depressing (well, maybe it is) it definitely reflects my exhaustion. Sorry guys!

Robert Frost is one of my all-time favorite poets, and as unoriginal as this may sound, I think his very best work  is "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening". I think the rhyming scheme is PERFECT and he paints the most wonderful picture in just a few lines. But the real reason this poem stood out to me today of all days, is because I am exhausted. And the last two lines of the poem ring true.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

    After reading that last line, I thought to myself, "He's SO right. I bet Robert Frost totally knew what it was like to be a college student." I assumed he'd gone to college (I didn't know very much about his personal life) and it turned out, I was right. Robert Frost attended Dartmouth for two months and then left to go work various jobs (why?!) and then he attended Harvard for two years before leaving (again, WHY?!). But more so than academic stress, he experienced emotional exhaustion. His father died when he was 11 (leaving his family with a grand total of eight dollars...and I know this was 1885 but STILL), his mother died of cancer, his younger sister was committed to a mental hospital (where she died) as was his daughter. One of his sons died of cholera while the other committed suicide, his other daughter died of some type of fever, and his wife died of breast cancer. Oh, and Robert Frost himself suffered from depression.

But WHO WOULDN'T?! 

So this entry is dedicated to Mr. Frost, for being so innately brilliant and charming the rest of the world with his works. How anyone deals with so much grief in their lives, I'll never know. (Maybe they write poetry?) 

RIP Robert Frost, you've kept your promises and earned your sleep. :) 

-Myra Khan

Princess of Rhymes