Stopping By 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.
Since I am from New Hampshire, I absolutely love Robert Frost. It is amazing to read his poetry and know I have camped, hiked or walked around in the areas which he describes. I have visited his house which is now a museum multiple times since it is on the way to the campground which I visit every year. Robert Frost’s use of imagery has always more than impressed me, I can always envision exactly what he depicts, perhaps because I have seen the landscape which he was likely depicting, or perhaps because he is an amazing poet. Either way this poem reminds me of New England winters. There is something so timeless about the landscape in New England, especially in the winter. It is a calm and quiet winter much more peaceful and mild than those here in Montana. “The woods are lovely, dark and deep.” Is such a great description.
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.
Since I am from New Hampshire, I absolutely love Robert Frost. It is amazing to read his poetry and know I have camped, hiked or walked around in the areas which he describes. I have visited his house which is now a museum multiple times since it is on the way to the campground which I visit every year. Robert Frost’s use of imagery has always more than impressed me, I can always envision exactly what he depicts, perhaps because I have seen the landscape which he was likely depicting, or perhaps because he is an amazing poet. Either way this poem reminds me of New England winters. There is something so timeless about the landscape in New England, especially in the winter. It is a calm and quiet winter much more peaceful and mild than those here in Montana. “The woods are lovely, dark and deep.” Is such a great description.
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