Texts

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.                Noticings

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.                      Noticings

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.                         Noticings

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.                         Noticings

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