Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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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About mountiangirl

" Remembering the Past, celebrating the Present and believing in the Future. ∞ The scribbled notes,poems,poetry of our lives." I am a FREE SPIRIT, Mostly known as Mombo " The Mystery Woman " and a rare few call me " Mountian Girl " which they say is an honor and royality. Jerry Garcia - The Greatful Dead - I am a Fiber Artist - Spinning, Weaving and knitting. I am shy and speak little - this is where my PC talks for me. I love music but not rap. But my true love's are humor, old letters,poetry and history of all things forgotten. But also so that the younger generation can read of it too ( gain knowledge ) be it never known or just forgot. There is so much even I don't remember at my ripe young age of 51.
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