North Of Boston | by Robert Frost
" An authentic original voice in literature." -The Atlantic Monthly
| Title | North Of Boston |
| Author | Robert Frost |
| Publisher | Henry Holt And Company |
| Year | 1917 |
| Copyright | 1917, Henry Holt And Company |
| Amazon | North of Boston |
By Robert Frost, Author Of A Boy's Will
Henry Holt And Company
TO E. M. F.
The Pasture
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring; I'll only stop to rate 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 calf Thats 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.
Mending Wall- Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast The work of hunters is anot...
- The Death Of The Hired Man
- Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step, She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage To meet him in the doorway with the news And put him on h...
- The Mountain
- The mountain held the town as in a shadow I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed that I missed stars in the west, Where its black body cut into the sky. Near me it seemed: I felt it like a...
- A Hundred Collars
- Lancaster bore him-such a little town, Such a great man. It doesn't see him often Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead And sends the children down there with their mother To run wild...
- Home Burial
- He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. She took a doubtful step and then undid it To raise herself and look ag...
- The Black Cottage
- We chanced in passing by that afternoon To catch it in a sort of special picture Among tar-banded ancient cherry trees, Set well back from the road in rank lodged grass, The little cottage we were ...
- Blueberries
- You ought to have seen what I saw on my way To the village, through Mortenson's pasture to-day: Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb, Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum In t...
- A Servant To Servants
- I didn't make you know how glad I was To have you come and camp here on our land. I promised myself to get down some day And see the way you lived, but I don't know! With a houseful of hungry men to f...
- After Apple-Picking
- My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. But ...
- The Code
- There were three in the meadow by the brook Gathering up windrows, piling cocks of hay, With an eye always lifted toward the west Where an irregular sun-bordered cloud Darkly advanced with a perpetual...
- The Generations Of Men
- A governor it was proclaimed this time, When all who would come seeking in New Hampshire Ancestral memories might come together. And those of the name Stark gathered in Bow, A rock-strewn town wher...
- The Housekeeper
- I LET myself in at the kitchen door. a It's you, she said. I can't get up. Forgive me Not answering your knock. I can no more Let people in than I can keep them out. I'm getting too old for m...
- The Fear
- A lantern light f rom deeper in the barn Shone on a man and woman in the door And threw their lurching shadows on a house Near by, all dark in every glossy window. A horse's hoof pawed once the hollow...
- The Self-Seeker
- Willis, I didn't want you here to-day: The lawyer's coming for the company. I'm going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet. Five hundred dollars for the pair, you know. With you the feet have near...
- The Wood-Pile
- Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day I paused and said, I will turn back from here. No, I will go on farther-and we shall see. The hard snow held me, save where now and then One foot wen...
- Good Hours
- I HAD for my winter evening walk- No one at all with whom to talk, But I had the cottages in a row Up to their shining eyes in snow. And I thought I had the folk within: I had the sound of a violin...
