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.
And miles to go before I sleep.
4 comments:
An interesting muse indeed....are you sure the poets name wasn’t Jack?..;)
Yes indeed, it could have well been Jack - he's been known to write a bit of frosty, to the point poetry from time to time.
I love this poem, especially its intricate rhyme scheme, which deftly connects the stanzas. It’s accomplished seemingly effortlessly, but I am sure it wasn’t as easy to write as it is to memorize.
Dan, it's a great poem. Perhaps his poem "The Road Less Taken" aka 'The path less travelled' is Robert Frosts most well known poem.
His gift is to combine two universals - the natural world as metaphors for aspects of the human condition. His poems are full of insight and wisdom.
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