BENNINGTON, Vt. â When I was a student at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, I took a course in âIntroduction to Frost,â taught by Professor William OâDonnell. Professor OâDonnell might have been sent to us by central casting, from his bushy white eyebrows to his Harris tweed jacket to his red Chuck Taylors. And he delivered the goods. Professor OâDonnell spoke with warmth and passion for the poetry of Robert Frost, who had been a friend of his. Though Professor OâDonnell was in his mid-60s, there was a playfulness about him. I well remember the day he told us of climbing a young birch tree, as the narrator of âBirchesâ had done, to have it bend as he neared the top and set him back down on the ground. It was exhilarating, he said, though the branches had left their marks on him.