Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost
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 wrote this poem in 1922 after struggling all night with another work. This gentle poem symbolizes for me a Christmas ideal and then along comes Christmas reality. I love the season, it is my very favorite. So as I recite this poem, I remember how wonderful this time of year is and I do need to stop along way.
2 comments:
Do you recall that in 5th grade Mrs. Grange made us memoraize this poem? Under the auspices of Robert Frost being JFK's favoritie poet as I recall. Thanks to her I can still recite most of it. Beautiful picture BTW.
I don't remember that, must have been one of those: you got an A, and got by.
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