Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert FrostWhose 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 the 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.
MARGINALIA
I loved this for the sound ever since I first heard it.
—
I can’t remember how many times I’ve stood there, before the woods of my life, before the evenings of my life. How it called to me, like a half-remembered dream.
—
I would have gone, too. I would have.
ABOUT ROBERT FROST
Robert Frost was born in San Francisco, but his family moved to Lawrence, Massachusetts, in 1884 following his father’s death. The move was actually a return, for Frost’s ancestors were originally New Englanders, and Frost became famous for his poetry’s engagement with New England locales, identities, and themes. Frost graduated from Lawrence High School, in 1892, as class poet (he also shared the honor of co-valedictorian with his wife-to-be Elinor White), and two years later,… (more)
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