What is the poetic form of this excerpt from Robert Frost's "Mending Wall"?

Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well

idk

explanation:

im dum j.e

d.) then bernice winced as marjorie tossed her own hair over her shoulders and began to twist it slowly into two long blond braids until in her cream-colored negligée she looked like a delicate painting of some saxon princess. fascinated, bernice watched the braids grow. heavy and luxurious they were, moving under the supple fingers like restive snakes—and to bernice remained this relic and the curling iron and a to-morrow full of eyes.

are there answer choices to this particular question?

yeah uhm looks pretty good lol