Mending Wall Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left not one stone on a stone, But they would rather make it a wall.

I see him there, bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. He moves in darkness as it seems to me, Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

He will not go behind his father’s saying, And he likes having thought of it so well That he says again, “Good fences make good neighbors.”

• Robert Frost