Sunday, February 6, 2011

Stopping by Woods on a snowy evening

I came to think of one of my favorite poems earlier today. It's a poem written by Robert Frost, and it's called "Stopping by Woods on a snowy evening."
I like the depth and profoundness of the poem which is expressed in such a subtle and simplistic matter. It's simply beautiful. Anyway, here it goes;


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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