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Read more poems by Robert Frost: Robert Frost Poems at Poetry X.

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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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.

Added: 31 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 19 Aug 2017 9:01 AM | Viewed: 62779 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/740/ | Viewed on 19 August 2017.
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