1 minute read
‘STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING’: A poem by Robert Frost
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
![](https://assets.isu.pub/document-structure/220309162441-a342831f80cea8688bce131f5893a255/v1/e013fdd21922010a70115201a4beb35f.jpeg)
Advertisement
Poem by Robert Frost | Photo by Robert Inglis
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.
![](https://assets.isu.pub/document-structure/220309162441-a342831f80cea8688bce131f5893a255/v1/04cbc80c75bc87e2572836b78e7ff257.jpeg)
![](https://assets.isu.pub/document-structure/220309162441-a342831f80cea8688bce131f5893a255/v1/79dce2704af0f4545e2993c740050a80.jpeg)
![](https://assets.isu.pub/document-structure/220309162441-a342831f80cea8688bce131f5893a255/v1/162817b99c450c29d42f3311f6b5c5c3.jpeg)