Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening<\/h1>\n
BY ROBERT FROST<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Whose woods these are I think I know. <\/p>\n
His house is in the village though; <\/p>\n
He will not see me stopping here <\/p>\n
To watch his woods fill up with snow. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My little horse must think it queer <\/p>\n
To stop without a farmhouse near <\/p>\n
Between the woods and frozen lake <\/p>\n
The darkest evening of the year. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He gives his harness bells a shake <\/p>\n
To ask if there is some mistake. <\/p>\n
The only other sound\u2019s the sweep <\/p>\n
Of easy wind and downy flake. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, <\/p>\n
But I have promises to keep, <\/p>\n
And miles to go before I sleep, <\/p>\n
And miles to go before I sleep.<\/p>\n
Robert Frost, \u201cStopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening\u201d from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
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