Provide

Lately I’ve discovered the wonders of Robert Frost’s poetry. I mean, I’ve always liked his stuff, but let’s be honest, The Road Not Taken and Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening get really old after seeing them on posters and reading them in English class all through middle and high school.

Shockingly enough, he wrote a lot of other stuff (which I happen to like better). Here’s one of my new favorites:

Provide, Provide

 The witch that came (the withered hag)

To wash the steps with pail and rag

Was once the beauty Abishag,

The picture pride of Hollywood.

Too many fall from great and good

For you to doubt the likelihood.

Die early and avoid the fate.

Or if predestined to die late,

Make up your mind to die in state.

Make the whole stock exchange your own!

If need be occupy a throne,

Where nobody can call you crone.

Some have relied on what they knew,

Others on being simply true.

What worked for them might work for you.

No memory of having starred

Atones for later disregard

Or keeps the end from being hard.

Better to go down dignified

With boughten friendship at your side

Than none at all. Provide, provide!