An Old Man's Winter Night
All out of doors looked darkly in at himThrough the thin frost, almost in separate stars,That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.What kept his eyes from giving back the gazeWas the lamp tilted near them in his hand.What kept him from remembering what it wasThat brought him to that creaking room was age.He stood with barrels round him--at a loss.And having scared the cellar under himIn clomping there, he scared it once againIn clomping off;--and scared the outer night,Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roarOf trees and crack of branches, common things,But nothing so like beating on a box.A light he was to no one but himselfWhere now he sat, concerned with he knew what,A quiet light, and then not even that.He consigned to the moon, such as she was,So late-arising, to the broken moonAs better than the sun in any caseFor such a charge, his snow upon the roof,His icicles along the wall to keep;And slept. The log that shifted with a joltOnce in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.One aged man--one man--can't fill a house,A farm, a countryside, or if he can,It's thus he does it of a winter night.
Words in this poem
- pane n.
- The narrow edge of a hammer head. See Peen. [F. panne.]
- countryside n.
- A particular rural district; a country neighborhood. [Eng.] W.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
An Old Man's Winter Night is in the public domain. This text is taken from Mountain Interval, Project Gutenberg ebook #29345; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Frost, An Old Man's Winter Night, in Mountain Interval (1916), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #29345, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/frost-mountain-interval/an-old-man-s-winter-night.html, id L02640.
Form and metre
An Old Man's Winter Night is 28 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 36% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 A----B--A-C----DDB---------C himA · stars · rooms · gaze · hand · wasB · age · loss · himA · again · nightC · roar · things · box · himself · whatD · thatD · wasB · moon · case · roof · keep · jolt · shifted · slept · house · can · nightC
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| All out of doors looked darkly in at him | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, | 11 | ····/··/˘·· |
| That gathers on the pane in empty rooms. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| What kept him from remembering what it was | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| That brought him to that creaking room was age. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| He stood with barrels round him--at a loss. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And having scared the cellar under him | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| In clomping there, he scared it once again | 10 | ········˘/ |
| In clomping off;--and scared the outer night, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Of trees and crack of branches, common things, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| But nothing so like beating on a box. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| A light he was to no one but himself | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| A quiet light, and then not even that. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| He consigned to the moon, such as she was, | 10 | ·˘/······· |
| So late-arising, to the broken moon | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| As better than the sun in any case | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| For such a charge, his snow upon the roof, | 10 | ·········· |
| His icicles along the wall to keep; | 10 | ·/˘˘˘/···· |
| And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted, | 11 | ····˘/···/˘ |
| And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept. | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| One aged man--one man--can't fill a house, | 9 | ········· |
| A farm, a countryside, or if he can, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| It's thus he does it of a winter night. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.