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’s 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.

Login to comment...

Liked or faved by...

London M.A.A.L. Y. J. Hall A Traveler Taylor Joe Marflak J.B. Gary Williams Gregory F. Groat Lety Dam Liam McDonnell Jong Gab Jo Mei ying Wm. Bagley Jared DelGado Saqib Abraham Liam alejandro . Liana Bravo Vintagesoul steven ~AMC~

Other works by Robert Frost...

Some poets who follow Robert Frost...

Sebastian Murillo Anonymous My New Life Berklee Lerohl Don Emilio Nancy Niddam Sequerra