Robert Frost

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

The Times Table - Poem by Robert Frost

More than halfway up the pass
Was a spring with a broken drinking glass,
And whether the farmer drank or not
His mare was sure to observe the spot
By cramping the wheel on a water-bar,
turning her forehead with a star,
And straining her ribs for a monster sigh;
To which the farmer would make reply,
'A sigh for every so many breath,
And for every so many sigh a death.
That's what I always tell my wife
Is the multiplication table of life.'
The saying may be ever so true;
But it's just the kind of a thing that you
Nor I, nor nobody else may say,
Unless our purpose is doing harm,
And then I know of no better way
To close a road, abandon a farm,
Reduce the births of the human race,
And bring back nature in people's place.


Comments about The Times Table by Robert Frost

  • Tom Allport (12/9/2016 4:51:00 AM)

    tom allport
    how true, we have one chance to get it right here on earth (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 11, 2016



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