Spring Pools These pools that, though in forests, mean No better than the oceans’ isles, When I have walked in where there no ground I find it it too heavy to drown:

Where swayed reeds and lilies sweep The hazel tree without a sound And feathered things that dip and sweep, And every tide can cast a mind.

And now no spring can lose its strength, No dream, no time can say, I can Because some few old thoughts of worth Still bang their heads in every heart.

And when I finish every line, All of things which hold the same kiss, Then I descend into the brinks Of common pools who never learn.

• Robert Frost