Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening ofContinue reading “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”