{
 "id": "robert-frost/the-runaway",
 "title": "The Runaway",
 "poet": "Robert Frost",
 "poet_slug": "robert-frost",
 "language": "en",
 "book": "New Hampshire",
 "book_slug": "new-hampshire",
 "book_kind": "volume",
 "sequence": 21,
 "container": "Grace Notes",
 "epigraph": null,
 "first_published": {
  "year": 1923,
  "venue": "New Hampshire (1923)",
  "note": "First located printing is this volume; an earlier periodical printing has not been established.",
  "uncertain": false,
  "sources": [
   "https://archive.org/details/newhampshirepoem00fros_0",
   "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58611",
   "https://www.wikidata.org/wiki/Q7008086"
  ]
 },
 "source": {
  "kind": "standard-ebooks",
  "repo": "standardebooks/robert-frost_new-hampshire",
  "file": "new-hampshire.xhtml",
  "upstream": [
   "https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58611",
   "https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/000433611"
  ],
  "rights": "public domain (SE dedication; underlying text pre-1931)"
 },
 "verification": {
  "level": "structural-only",
  "last_checked": "2026-08-12"
 },
 "stats": {
  "n_lines": 21,
  "n_stanzas": 1,
  "n_parts": 0,
  "longest_line_chars": 54,
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 "stanzas": [
  [
   {
    "text": "Once when the snow of the year was beginning to fall,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "We stopped by a mountain pasture to say, “Whose colt?”",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "A little Morgan had one forefoot on the wall,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "The other curled at his breast. He dipped his head",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "And snorted at us. And then he had to bolt.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "We heard the miniature thunder where he fled,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "And we saw him, or thought we saw him, dim and grey,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Like a shadow against the curtain of falling flakes.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "“I think the little fellow’s afraid of the snow.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "He isn’t winter-broken. It isn’t play",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "With the little fellow at all. He’s running away.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "I doubt if even his mother could tell him, ‘Sakes,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "It’s only weather.’ He’d think she didn’t know!",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Where is his mother? He can’t be out alone.”",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "And now he comes again with clatter of stone,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "And mounts the wall again with whited eyes",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "And all his tail that isn’t hair up straight.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "He shudders his coat as if to throw off flies.",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "“Whoever it is that leaves him out so late,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "When other creatures have gone to stall and bin,",
    "indent": 0
   },
   {
    "text": "Ought to be told to come and take him in.”",
    "indent": 0
   }
  ]
 ]
}