<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506814" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Old Man's Winter Night</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">All out of doors looked darkly in at him<br>Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,<br>That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.<br>What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze<br>Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.<br>What kept him from remembering what it was<br>That brought him to that creaking room was age.<br>He stood with barrels round him -- at a loss.<br>And having scared the cellar under him<br>In clomping there, he scared it once again<br>In clomping off; -- and scared the outer night,<br>Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar<br>Of trees and crack of branches, common things,<br>But nothing so like beating on a box.<br>A light he was to no one but himself<br>Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,<br>A quiet light, and then not even that.<br>He consigned to the moon, such as she was,<br>So late-arising, to the broken moon<br>As better than the sun in any case<br>For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,<br>His icicles along the wall to keep;<br>And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt<br>Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,<br>And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.<br>One aged man -- one man -- can't keep a house,<br>A farm, a countryside, or if he can,<br>It's thus he does it of a winter night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Frost">Robert Frost</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506814" data-title="An Old Man's Winter Night de Robert Frost" data-description="All out of doors looked darkly in at him Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, That gathers on the pane in empty rooms. What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand. What kept him from remember..."></div> </div> </div>

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