Classic writing, modern delivery
164 poems · ~6 months at one per day
Five collections of the poet who made verse from New England’s stone walls, birch trees, and snowy woods—from the lyrics of A Boy’s Will to the dramatic dialogues of North of Boston and the wit of New Hampshire
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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.