Treasure Island

Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Putting In The Seed


You come to fetch me from my work to-night
When supper's on the table, and we'll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea);
And go along with you ere you lose sight
Of what you came for and become like me,
Slave to a Springtime passion for the earth.
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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  • * Sunprincess * (11/15/2012 6:53:00 PM)

    this one is so picturesque a perfect poem for springtime..
    causes me to wish for march april and may.. :) (Report) Reply

  • Andrew Hoellering (12/29/2009 5:15:00 AM)

    The poem divides into two; an introduction and the main section starting ‘Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.’

    The last two lines are unforgettable:

    The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
    Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

    Force is suggested both by ‘sturdy’ and the seed’s arched body, and the stress on ‘shouldering’ reinforces the impression of a tiny power that cannot be contained. (Report) Reply

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