Before I built a wall I'd ask to know what I was walling in or walling out.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall, and wants it down.
Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and building a wall.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.
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.
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