Thursday, August 14, 2008

Robert Frost The pasture

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long.
You come too.
I'm going out to fetch the little calf That's standing by the mother.
It's so young, It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long.
You come too.

No comments: