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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.


This poem is one of my favorites by Robert Frost. I've seen a lot of ink wasted over this poem in futile attempts to over-analize it and attribute meanings to it that just aren't there. I've even heard people say it's about a death wish. What non-sense! It's about stopping by woods on a snowy evening. What more does it need to be about? That is enough.


Added to MMM Sunday March 6, 2005.

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