Poem of the Month

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both. And be one traveler, long I stood. And looked down one as far as I could To where it

Should lanterns shine, the holy face, Caught in an octagon of unaccustomed light, Would wither up, and any boy of love. Look twice before he fell from grace. The features in their private

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that