Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

12:39 AM Michael Etienne Edwards 0 Comments

"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 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.