Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

This is one of my favorite poems.




Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Eveningby 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.
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Published on December 10, 2019 20:30
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