Stopping by the 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 sounds 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.

--Robert Frost

My all-time favorite poem. Growing up I memorized this poem because it sounded good. As an adult, this poem takes on a new depth that I could never have felt before. The wistfulness and the sense of duty is palpable.