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-
I like this poem. When we (Lori & I) were in 7th grade our English teacher made us memorize this poem. Lori can still quote it verbatim. Not me. But I remember it. I like Robert Frost.
3 comments:
I remember this poem. I learned it when we lived in Indiana. This poem reminds me of the silent sound of snow falling.
In college I realized that the art of poetry was not as known among my peers as in previous generations and I asked an English lit. major friend where to start to be more familiar with poetry. She suggested Robert Frost and I have grown to appreciate his work.
I love poems butI am not able to memorize them. This reminds me of a photo that Dad and I took of ourselves up by Strawberry, Az. We were traveling by there and stopped beside the road after a fresh snow storm. It was quiet and beautifully white. Robert Frost's poems are some of the best.
thanks for sharing the poem and picture. Love you, Mom
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