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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

Whose woods are these 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’s 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

All the promises I have made that were capable of being fulfilled are done.  I have only one more debt.  The road has been long and hard.  The joys and pleasures along the way were considerable.  I thank God for the opportunity to participate in the pageant.

I approach near the edge of the woods.  The sleep will be welcome.

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