And miles to go before I sleep:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

by Robert Frost (1923)

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.

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About oneheartonemind

Photojournalist,Picture Editor and Martial Artist View all posts by oneheartonemind

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