myownwayx (myownwayx) wrote,
myownwayx
myownwayx

  • Location:
  • Mood:
  • Music:

stopping by the 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.

Robert Frost, New Hampshire, 1923

Tags: inspiration
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 0 comments