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.
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Thank you for your very kind thoughts and words. You have lifted me up! 🙂
I LOVE this poem, and can never see it too often. Thank you so much for sharing it here, and providing links to learn more, much more, about this amazing poem and the amazing poet who penned it. As one of a few of his I have down to memory for recital, this is my favorite and I ALWAYS feel goosebumps as I say the lines: The only other sound’s the sweep of easy wind and downy flake. Breath-taking. Blessings and gratitude to you!
I love this poem as well, Gina. I have the last stanza on numerous wallpapers for my computers. There is SO much meaning one can place on each line. We each get to use this poem for our own emotional delight. My hat is off to Sir Robert. Thanks, Gina. 🙂