The Pasture, by Robert Frost

To begin this collection of Ideal Poems, here is one by Robert Frost (1874-1963). Louise Bogan (1897-1970), who reviewed poetry for the New Yorker for forty years, wrote this: The Pasture, “… is a love song, among other things – surely one of the loveliest in the language.”

The Pasture

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.

Robert Frost

The ideal aspect of this is the blunt invitation to the reader to accompany the poet. This is a rare case where a poem that opens with “I” fairly embraces the reader. Most “I”-opening poems make my eyes water with pity for a poor self-absorbed poet.