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.

by Robert Frost

Comments (337)

I REMEMBER THIS WHEN I WAS IN 5TH GRADE
The poem is very nice it is logical to know
Ahhh, depravity is such a terrible thing to waste
I like it very much it is very peaceful and really takes you into the wintery woods
I love this poem very much.
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