You called?

I actually prefer Carl Sandburg to Robert Frost, although both are good. Used to be I also enjoyed TS Eliot, but now I'm not so sure he's as good as I once thought. Oh, he has his moments, sure. But I dunno.

Now, Yeats had a mind for image, story, and meter:



            The host is riding from Knocknarea
            And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;
            Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
            And Niamh calling Away, come away:
            Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
            The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,
            Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,
            Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam,
            Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;
            And if any gaze on our rushing band,
            We come between him and the deed of his hand,
            We come between him and the hope of his heart.
            The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,
            And where is there hope or deed as fair?
            Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
            And Niamh calling Away, come away.

or

I think it better that in times like these
A poet's mouth be silent, for in truth
We have no gift to set a statesman right;
He has had enough of meddling who can please
A young girl in the indolence of her youth,
Or an old man upon a winter's night.

This is not to say that one IS better than another, but simply expresses my preferences now. But Frost is still good, as in

...Two roads diverged into a wood, and I,
I plowed straight ahead through the bush
And that has made all the difference.