Whose woods these are......

                                                                  

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

 

By Robert Frost   

 

Whose woods these are I think I know.                                  Just teasing
His house is in the village though;                                         The snow is finally gone
He will not see me stopping here                                           It's about time 
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer                                        Let's enjoy the SPRINGTIME
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.