North of Boston1915 |
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afraid Anne apple apple trees apple-picking barn berries beside BLUEBERRIES brook cellar climb cock coming cottage Doctor door Elves Estelle Estelle's everything Fairbanks farm feel feet ferns flowers folks fool fountain pen Fredericksburg friends Gettysburg give glad goes gone Granny hand he'd hear heard hens hickory Joel John John's keep knew Lafe lantern lawyer lift live load look Loren Lunenburg married mean MENDING WALL mind mother mountain never saw night clerk outdoors pasture pick Ram's Horn raspberries round seems sha'n't shout Silas sleep so's someone sort speak stairs stand Stark stay sure talk tell There's things thought to-day town trees trouble turned Twas violin voices wait walk wall Warren What's Willis wonder wood woodchuck wrong Yellow Lady's Slipper
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Side 12 - There where it is we do not need the wall: He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors.
Side 22 - I made the bed up for him there tonight. You'll be surprised at him— how much he's broken. His working days are done; I'm sure of it." "I'd not be in a hurry to say that.
Side 135 - Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle. What held it though on one side was a tree Still growing, and on one a stake and prop. These latter about to fall. I thought that only Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks Could so forget his handiwork on which He spent himself, the labour of his axe, And leave it there far from a useful fireplace To warm the frozen swamp as best it could With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
Side 11 - 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.
Side 21 - I think his brother ought to help, of course. I'll see to that if there is need. He ought of right To take him in, and might be willing to— He may be better than appearances.
Side 134 - And piled—and measured, four by four by eight. And not another like it could I see. No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it. And it was older sure than this year's cutting, Or even last year's or the year's before. The wood was grey and the bark warping off it And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle. What held it though on one side was a tree Still growing, and on one a stake and prop, These latter about to fall. I thought that only...
Side 20 - he has come home to die: You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time." "Home," he mocked gently. "Yes, what else but home? It all depends on what you mean by home. Of course he's nothing to us, any more Than was the hound that came a stranger to us Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.
Side 46 - Don't carry it to someone else this time. Tell me about it if it's something human. Let me into your grief. I'm not so much Unlike other folks as your standing there 60 Apart would make me out.
Side 44 - The wonder is I didn't see at once. I never noticed it from here before. I must be wonted to it — that's the reason. The little graveyard where my people are! So small the window frames the whole of it. Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it?
Side 48 - Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice Out in the kitchen, and I don't know why, But I went near to see with my own eyes. You could sit there with the stains on your shoes Of the fresh earth from your own baby's grave And talk about your everyday concerns. You had stood the spade up against the wall Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.