The Sunday Posts 2014/Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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.
Robert Frost,
Photo By Alistair.



dbs said…
One of my absolute favourite poems to teach.
Yamini MacLean said…
Hari OM
...and one of my absolute faves - just because! &*> YAM xx
Rebecca S. said…
My son wrote music to this poem a while back. I must find it and have a listen. This poem was such a great discovery back when I was a student. It takes me directly into those silent woods and makes me stop a while, too.
Bovey Belle said…
Another fan of Robert Frost here. This is such a comforting poem.

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