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.
3 comments:
I love to read this poem. I had a friend a few years ago, who has since passed away, and he was a retired professor of English at the University of Michigan. I brought him as a guest to our small Catholic School during National Poetry Month (and again during Nat'l Reading Month) and he told the children about this poem one year. He told them that Robert Frost spent some time at the U of Mich and lived in the country north of campus (our school is less than 20 miles north of campus in an area with lots of lakes). He had us imagine riding in a carriage with a horse on one of our many dirt country roads on a snowy night and seeing just this scene. A beautiful scene it is! For me, an engineer by training, just listening him read and explain poetry opened up a window no other teacher had done. The first graders heard the opening of "Romeo and Juliet" from deep in his memory (he was probably 74 at the time). Fun stuff!
What a lovely memory! Thanks for sharing!
Wendy,
This is one of my favourite poems. Favourite poets too! Thank you for sharing so I could meet up with an old friend on your blog.
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