Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Miles to go before I sleep

The last couple of lines of Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening have been rolling through my head for the last couple of weeks. As I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, it felt like a good day to post the poem. Enjoy.

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

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