The Pasture by Robert Frost

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;  
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away  
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):  
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.  
  
I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young,  
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.  
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.