Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)
Poems by Robert Frost : 111 / 136
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):
........................
........................
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Robert Frost
Comments about this poem (The Pasture by Robert Frost )
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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.
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.