Friday, July 23, 2010

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'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.
- Robert Frost

2 comments:

Laghu Sikarwar said...

REally nice! i remember myself getting charged up everytime i used to read this poem :) very inspiring :)

Jagmeet said...

Really nice one, Remember my school days, Just by reading the title Robert Frost came to my mind...

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