First Lines of Some Frost Poems

Here are first lines of the Robert Frost poems I’ve memorized for possible use in a Stopping By, With Robert Frost program:

Acquainted With the Night
I have been one acquainted with the night.
   After Apple-Picking
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Afterflakes
            In the thick of a teeming snowfall
The Aim Was Song
            Before man came to blow it right
At Woodward's Gardens
            A boy, presuming on his intellect,
Bereft
            Where had I heard this wind before
Birches
            When I see birches bend to left and right
The Birthplace
            Here further up the mountain slope
Bravado
            Have I not walked without an upward look
Blue-Butterfly Day
            It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,
Clear and Colder
Wind, the season-climate mixer,
A Cloud Shadow
            A breeze discovered my open book
Come In
            As I came to the edge of the woods,
A Considerable Speck
            A speck that would have been beneath my sight
The Death of the Hired Man
            Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table,
Desert Places
            Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
Design
            I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
Devotion
            The heart can think of no devotion
The Door in the Dark
            In going from room to room in the dark
Dust of Snow
            The way a crow
Fire and Ice
            Some say the world will end in fire,
Fireflies in the Garden
            Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
Forgive, O Lord . . .
            Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
Gathering Leaves
            Spades take up leaves
The Gift Outright
            The land was ours before we were the land's.
Going for Water
            The well was dry beside the door,
Good Hours
            I had for my winter evening walk --
Happiness Makes Up in Height for What It Lacks in Length
            Oh stormy, stormy world,
The Hardship of Accounting
            Never ask of money spent
In a Disused Graveyard
            The living come with grassy tread
The Investment
            Over back where they speak of life as staying
In Winter in the Woods .  .  .
            In winter in the woods alone
It Bids Pretty Fair
            The play seems out for an almost infinite run.
It Is Almost the Year Two Thousand
            To start the world of old
Lodged
            The rain to the wind said,
A Lone Striker
            The swinging mill bell changed its rate
Mending Wall
            Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
A Minor Bird
            I have wished a bird would fly away,
A Mood Apart
            Once down on my knees to growing plants
Mowing
            There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
Nothing Gold Can Stay
            Nature's first green is gold,
On Being Chosen Poet of Vermont
            Breathes there a bard who isn't moved
On Making Certain Anything Has Happened
            I could be worse employed
Once By the Pacific
            The shattered water made a misty din.
One Step Backward Taken
            Not only sands and gravels
Our Hold on the Planet
            We asked for rain.  It didn't flash and roar.
Out, Out
            The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
The Pasture
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
A Patch of Old Snow
            There's a patch of old snow in a corner,
Plowmen
A plow, they say, to plow the snow,
Provide, Provide
            The witch that came (the withered hag)
A Question
            A voice said, Look me in the stars
The Road Not Taken
            Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
The Secret Sits
            We dance round in a ring and suppose,
The Span of Life
            The old dog barks backward without getting up.
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
            Whose woods these are I think I know.
Take Something Like a Star
            O Star (the fairest one in sight),
A Time to Talk
            When a friend calls to me from the road
To the Thawing Wind
            Come with rain, O loud Southwester!
Two Tramps in Mud Time
            Out of the mud two strangers came
What Fifty Said
            When I was young my teachers were the old.
Why Wait for Science
            Sarcastic Science, she would like to know,