Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)
Poems by Robert Frost : 77 / 136
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
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Robert Frost
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this one is so picturesque a perfect poem for springtime..
causes me to wish for march april and may.. :)
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.