North of Boston/The Pasture

by Robert Frost

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 sha'n'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 sha'n't be gone long.—You come too.