The well was dry beside the door, <br />And so we went with pail and can <br />Across the fields behind the house <br />To seek the brook if still it ran; <br />Not loth to have excuse to go, <br />Because the autumn eve was fair <br />(Though chill), because the fields were ours, <br />And by the brook our woods were there. <br /> <br />We ran as if to meet the moon <br />That slowly dawned behind the trees, <br />The barren boughs without the leaves, <br />Without the birds, without the breeze. <br /> <br /> But once within the wood, we paused <br />Like gnomes that hid us from the moon, <br />Ready to run to hiding new <br />With laughter when she found us soon. <br /> <br />Each laid on other a staying hand <br />To listen ere we dared to look, <br />And in the hush we joined to make <br />We heard, we knew we heard the brook. <br /> <br />A note as from a single place, <br />A slender tinkling fall that made <br />Now drops that floated on the pool <br />Like pearls, and now a silver blade.<br /><br />Robert Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/going-for-water/
