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...

Y. J. Hall M.A.A.L. AD A Traveler Lucas Lijewski Joe Marflak J.B. Liam McDonnell Gary Williams Mei ying Liam alejandro Wm. Bagley Vintagesoul Saqib Abraham Gregory F. Groat Jared DelGado Jong Gab Jo steven ~AMC~
Email

Other works by Robert Frost...