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.
Written by the most popular poet Robert frost
Interesting facts about the poem–
This poem features a traveler who stands still and admires the beauty of snow in the woods; it is as if he is watching a snowfall and contemplating about the world around him. Frost claimed to have written the poem in one sitting. And although this is likely to be untrue, it would have been sincerely impressive because the poem was very well crafted
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