The Poem "Mowing" by Robert Frost


The poem "Mowing" by Robert Frost

This poem is included in 9th class/grade Board Syllabus.

Introduction

Frost uses his skill with natural imagery to depict the peace found

 in simplicity. Robert Frost is one of the most popular American

 poets of all time. His highly accessible work made him famous

 in his lifetime.  The poem “Mowing” a  fourteen-line sonnet

 that is contained within one block of text. The lines follow a 

rhyme scheme that does not conform to either one of the most 

popular sonnet  structures (Shakespearean or Petrarchan). Instead, 

the lines rhyme:  ABCABDECDFEGFG. Although the rhyme is very

 different from the most familiar forms. 


The Poem Explanation & Rhyme Scheme

 

There was never a sound beside the wood but one,      A

And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground. B

What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;         C

Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,      A

Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound—             B

And that was why it whispered and did not speak.        D

It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,           E                           

Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:              C

Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak  D    

To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,   F

Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers       E

(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.  G

The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.     F

My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make. G


Difficult words and their meanings:

whispering: murmur, speak slowly.

Scythe: an agriculture hand tool for mowing grass or harvesting crops.

Idle: useless, lazy.

Swale : a low or hollow place.

Feeble: weak.

Orchises: native plant

Scared: frightened, afraid.  


"Mowing" by Robert Frost


Concept of the Poem

"Mowing" captures the beauty of labor and the quiet, reflective moments it can bring. The poem's imagery emphasizes the connection between the speaker and the natural world, and the act of mowing becomes a metaphor for finding meaning and contentment in simple, honest work.

Summary:

 "Mowing" by Robert Frost is a reflective poem in which the speaker describes the experience of mowing a field with a scythe. The only sound accompanying the speaker is the soft whispering of the scythe against the grass. The speaker is thinking about the significance of this whispering, concluding that it is not an idle fantasy but rather a testament (proof) to the earnest labor being performed. The act of mowing reveals the simple beauty and satisfaction found in honest, physical work, as opposed to fanciful dreams or easy rewards.

Theme:

The primary theme of "Mowing" is the dignity and fulfillment of honest labor. Frost contrasts the tangible results of hard work with the illusory nature of idle dreams and magical rewards. The poem celebrates the intrinsic value of physical effort and the connection it fosters between the worker and the natural world.

Central Idea: The central idea of "Mowing" is that true satisfaction and beauty are found in the simplicity and truth of diligent work. The speaker finds a profound sense of peace and accomplishment in the rhythmic, quiet act of mowing, suggesting that labor itself can be a source of deep contentment and meaning. This central idea is encapsulated (summarize) in the closing lines, where the speaker acknowledges that the "fact" of the work is "the sweetest dream that labor knows," emphasizing the inherent worth of genuine effort over superficial or fantastical rewards.


"Mowing" by Robert Frost

What is paraphrasing?

This paraphrase aims to maintain the essence and imagery of the original poem while making the language simpler and more straightforward.

  • unchecked

    Change the original words

  • unchecked

    Write in the same person

  • unchecked

    Write the same tense as the original poem is written in.

  • unchecked

    Paraphrased lines (poem) are mostly  longer than the original.


Paraphrasing of the poem:


There was never a sound beside the wood but one,      A

There was no other sound in the forest except for one,

And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground. B

And that was the gentle sound of my scythe murmuring when I was cutting the grass.

What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;         C

I did not know what was it murmuring to me, 

Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,      A

Maybe it was talking about the heat of the sun,

Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound—             B

Or perhaps it was talking about the quietness around—

And that was why it whispered and did not speak.        D

Which is why it murmured instead of speaking aloud.

It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,           E                           

It wasn't a dream of lazy, carefree hours,

Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:  C

or the effortless gifts that have been given by the fairies, and elf  

Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak  D    

Anything beyond  the truth would have felt insincere

To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,   F

For the sincere effort that laid the field in neat rows,

Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers       E

Not without spikes even these delicate, pointed flowers

(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.  G

Yellow plants, and a startling shiny green snake.

The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.     F

Reality is the sweetest dream that a hard worker knows.

My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make. G

My scythe whispered and left the hay behind to dry.







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