Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Robert Frost: 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.


Public domain. 

2 comments on “Robert Frost: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

  1. Mike Schneider
    December 27, 2019

    “There’s no such thing as a perfect poem,” said Galway Kinnell, “but this one is as close as a poem gets to perfect.”

    Liked by 2 people

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