Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
whose woods these are think know.
His house is in the village, though;
He uvil! not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My littie 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.
woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
have promises to keep,
miies to go before sleep,
miies to go before sleep.