When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand still and look around On all the hills I haven't hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, Blade-end up and five feet tall, And plod: I go up to the stone wall For a friendly visit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUNSET by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON HIDE AND SEEK by SARA TEASDALE SONG by WALTHER VON DER VOGELWEIDE TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TO MRS. MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AMY'S CRUELTY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING FIRE by STANTON ARTHUR COBLENTZ LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - MAY/JULY 1811 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |