The Height of Happiness

It may be that there is some sense to alternating between Frost and Stevens. Not sure exactly what that entails, but it seems appropriate. In the past few posts Big Frank has taken a look at the imagination – its preeminence and its transforming power. Now Big Frank turns to Frost again and the imagination’s ability to stretch a warm happy experience – of love for example – over periods of unhappiness and to overpower them through its intensity. Its height triumphs over the latter’s length. The image in the final lines vividly shows that: the blazing flowers piercing the lovers' shadow as it passes over them. It is a beautiful poem, and a lovely concept. Perhaps it worked for Frost, who had a horrifically sad life, with more than its share of pain and loss. Keep in mind that Frost is not saying that these extraordinary poignant days/moments etc. give more than the merely steady sure partly cloudy days, or even the days of contentment. He is saying that these high points pierce the low - "through its blazing flowers". Such high happiness is an antidote to the stormy mists we all encounter.

Happiness Makes Up In Height For What It Lacks In Length
By Robert Frost

Oh stormy stormy world,
The days you were not swirled
Around with mist and cloud,
Or wrapped as in a shroud,
And the sun’s brilliant ball
Was not in part or all
Obscured from mortal view –
Were days but very few
I cannot but wonder whence
I get the lasting sense
Of so much warmth and light.
If my mistrust is right
It may be altogether
From one day’s perfect weather,
When starting clear at dawn
The day swept clearly on
To finish clear at eve.
I verily believe
My fair impression may
Be all from that one day
No shadow passed but ours
As through its blazing flowers
We went from house to wood
For change of solitude.