—by Robert Frost
Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise elude my embrace,
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms and into my face.
I may load and unload again and again
I may load and unload again and again
Till I fill the whole shed, and what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight, and since they grew duller
Next to nothing for weight, and since they grew duller
From contact with earth, next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop,
Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where the harvest shall stop?
