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.\\
Thanks for posting this. Been a long time since I have read this.
A beautifully illustrated accompaniment to the poem is Susan Jeffers classic book by the same name.
Beautiful
My favorite Robert Frost poem. Thank you! Being a Vermonter makes it even better. I always think of this poem when everything is covered in snow, which is quite often up here in the frozen north!
… “And miles to go before I sleep” – how fitting for we Senior Skiers!
Love this poem; I read it from time to time and it always brings tears to my eyes.