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 (3)

How anyone can read this poem withcrying, I don't know. It makes me feel thankful for each new day I am given; and so proud of my beautiful sons who have not had to pay the terrible price of war.
When i was in grade school i had to pick out a poem to resight to the class. I CHOSE THIS ONE and today at 83 years of age I still resight it to myself usually at night when I retire.
Tears of sadness; A wonderful powerful poem on Remembrance day.