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Robert Frost

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

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 shan'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 shan't be gone long. -- You come too.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • Jay Stober (1/15/2014 12:02:00 AM)

    This was my first favourite Frost poem fifty years ago. The relaxed rhyme and metrics are unusual for a poet who is generally uptight about these things- and lets you know it. Here the impression is modernist, even imagist- less ponderous. Although I've since read a biographer who suggests the poem was for Frost's wife, I've always imagined a friendly farm lad inviting a much younger brother or sister to accompany him on his chores, a Saturday afternoon treat. (Report) Reply

  • David Lane (4/3/2009 1:41:00 PM)

    Truly a brilliant poem. It actually tells the reader what to expect when reading Frost. He will take you on a journey that will make use of the everyday world to explore the depths of our being. (Report) Reply

  • Robert Howard (8/10/2006 11:01:00 PM)

    This lovely poem in my opinion exemplifies Mr Frost's ability to capture America's transition from a rural to urban society. A large number of his readers must have looked back longingly on childhood memories of farm life and would have been glad to dropp everything and accept Frost's invitation to come with him. (Report) Reply

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