It's from a well know Robert Frost poem - The Death of The Hired Man.
I studied it in high school - had to memorize passages - but until just now had not reread it through in several decades. As with much of Frost's work, there's considerable power expressed in few lines. I'm pleased and mildly amazed that I remembered as much of it as I did.
It's been haunting me a bit, and while I think I know the subconscious reason, it's not something that I can articulate at this time. I'm sure I see myself in it somewhat, or maybe someone that I know. I'll have to grok it a while more before it all makes sense.
In any case, it's a fairly fast read - no more then five minutes. If you're curious a link is:
http://www.bartleby.com/118/3.html
