Acquainted with the night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.


I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.


I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,


But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky


Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Robert Frost

Always for Faith

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 shan'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 shan't be gone long.- You come too.
 Robert Frost

For Faith

Spring: Two Takes

        Spring

Fresh clean air
In its icycold purity
Is supplanted each day
By polluted wind
Growing hot and fetid
More and more                                                  

Daylight melts the ices
And life seethes in again
  Christopher Mahon
                                                                          Putting in the Seed

                                                          You come to fetch me from my work tonight
                                                          When supper's on the table, and we'll see
                                                          If I can leave off burying the white
                                                          Soft petals fallen from the apple tree
                                                          (Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
                                                          Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea),
                                                          And go along with you ere you lose sight
                                                          Of what you came for and become like me,
                                                          Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.
                                                          How love burns through the Putting in the Seed
                                                          On through the watching for that early birth
                                                          When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
                                                          The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
                                                          Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.
                                                              Robert Frost