Name Amigo

Robert Frost Generated Poem

    Is also great
    By picking the faded blue
    I shall be telling this with a sigh
    And be one traveler, long I stood
    He will not see me stopping here
    Half closes the garden path.
    His house is in the village, though;
    I have passed by the watchman on his beat
    Though as for that the passing there
    So Eden sank to grief,
    Up from the tangle of withered weeds
    I doubted if I should ever come back.