Frost’s Early Poems

by: Robert Frost

“Mowing”

Quotes “Mowing”
1

There was never a sound beside the wood but one, And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground. What was it it whispered?

2

It was not dream of the gift of idle hours, Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf: Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows . . .

3

The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows. My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.