THE PASTUREBy Robert FrostI’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 calfThat’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.

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