Robert Lee Frost


The Times Table


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,
íA sigh for every so many breath,
And for every so many sigh a death.
Thatís what I always tell my wife
Is the multiplication table of life.í
The saying may be ever so true;
But itís 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 peopleís place.






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