Monday, March 04, 2013

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy...Afternoon



Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.  
 


 
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.  

 
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.
 
 
 

1 comment:

MaryofSharon said...

I love that poem. And I loved woods on snowy evenings. I need to go outside more.