Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Notes
Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.
The lyrical form of this poem is unrhyming.
1.Frost notes in North of Noston that this poem "takes
up the theme where A Tuft of Flowers in A Boy's
Will [his first volume of poems, published in 1913] laid
it down."
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
-
From guest Jerry (contact)
Reminds me of my two boys. The oldest will to what I tell him without question. The younger mischievous one wants to know “why.” -
A Frost favorite
>Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
>What I was walling in or walling out,
Stone walls around cemetaries must be one of Man's most ridiculous conceptions and utterly pointless: those walled in can't get out, wall or no wall, and those walled out don't wan't to get in!
Frost shows that other walls ultimately prove just as futile.
-
Hmm
Interesting comments on this poem... He was quite an observationalist.
In response to an earlier comment, when he uses "Good fences make good neighbors." I don't think that Frost was trying to emphasize on a truth. I think the line is used to expose the stiffness or the snidish personality of the neighbors. The main character obviously tries to reason that the wall isn't neccesary at all. He goes on humorously in lines 23 - 26 expounding upon this.
What I love about this poem is the universal theme outlined in line one. I think he developes it and carries it through to the end, quite well. I'd have to say that this is probably my favorite of Frost's poems. -
I had to do my Robert Frost essay on this poem...It's awesome
-
New England had some fine poets and politicians when much of the reset of the nation was perhaps not so populated. I wonder how this poem might have affected Democratic politicans in the last election if they had read it?
New England had fences and walls that were taken from an era in which handplaced stonework was common. The removal of stones from fields allowed crops to be planted and possibly harvested. yet the era of American cozyness in the snug sector of the nation is somewhat of a bygone era. That realization might have served as an analogy for the candidates running in the New England primaries.
A candidate that can win that race in Vermont because of local or regional politics may not be quite so well liked by the rest of the nation, which comprises a considerable portion of the area 'outside' New England.
Poloiticians that stopped to read this poem of Robert Frost might not feel so bad about placing second or third in Vermont. After all, do voters in California outside of those in San Francisco and LA ,really care about the politics of Boston or Portland, Burlington or Augusta? Does the lack of codfish offshore or the price of the commercial catch interest people in Wyoming, Texas or even Oregon?
If Robert Frost were still writing he might be a transcontinental poet comparing the oil derricks of Texas to the deaths of migrating birds by gun lines in some northern state, contrasting the colors of sunset in West Texas to the blood on the mallard's feathers in Minnesota, or the cranes of Alaska at Creamer's Field to those flying aimlessly around as winter slackers in New Mexico, California or AArizona.
Poets and politicians share many interests, yet some poets may be observative than some politicians, and some politicians share some of the introverted characteristics perhaps that some specially microscopically oriented poets writing about the Universe enclosed within an acre of land, or a hectare with some stone walls might have.
At one time the wild beauty of New England still retained the character of a frontier instead of the urban ratiness of a leaky big dig for fossil fuel autos to plug away in.
Good poem Mr. Frost, I hope your poem is of some consolation to those politicans that lost in the last national general election.
Edited on Dec 24, 2:22 p.m. because ''. -
This is a good poem. I can read this many times so hopefully can learn to write on sonnets.
-
I swear I thought i commented on this! I wrote something to this effect:
I wrote a paper on this poem last semester and it remains dear to me.
This is one of those that can be read many times and still retain a newness.
Katarine -
I didn't care too much for this piece. It sounds, to me, like one huge run-on sentence. I would have liked it more if he just had the last line alone. But I guess he couldn't.
For someone else I am sure this would be an ideal piece - it just did nothing for me.
Edited on Sep 29, 6:00 because ''. -
I have always loved this poem. Always been on eof my favorites of Frost's. I don't think he could have said it any better.
OD
-
I dont know if anyone noticed, his repetition of " good fences make good neighbors" line. Truth is, between people there are irrevocable differences , that must be kept behind walls...and if we shared everything, as the neighbor implied, then what?..Picture that. " Oh hey Bob, i was just taking a dump"...To keep us sane in life we need our privacy, and i think to keep the man in the poem sane, he needed his privacy too.
-
Do walls really make good neighbors? Do we as a people have to put up barriers to hide ourselves inside... and say we are keeping our neighbors out? Theres so much to think about with this poem; so much truth and observation, and lots of unanswered questions. This poem made me question a lot of things in life... It opened doors to the outside world; to society. It's written amazing, as is most of Frost's work. Try to pay attention to the questions it asks and see if you can answer any of them.
-
Suggest everyone to this, if you like poems.
Adding your comment:
1 - 11 of 11
