This is my all time favorite poem ever.
Robert Frost. New England. Promises and Sleeping.
true love.
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.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farm house near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest night 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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