Poetry

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25 april 2012

Robert Frost

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 is my favorite Robert Frost poem. It attracted me and fascinated me, and I fall in love with it everytime I read it. I just love it and it's special to me :)  






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