When I was young my teachers were the old.
I gave up fire for form till I was cold.


The poetry of Robert Frost (ed. 1975)


When I was young my teachers were the old. I gave up fire for form till I was cold.

When I was young my teachers were the old. I gave up fire for form till I was cold.

When I was young my teachers were the old. I gave up fire for form till I was cold.

When I was young my teachers were the old. I gave up fire for form till I was cold.