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 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 winds and downy flakes

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,

Almost home

And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost



It's been a wonderful snow day! I'm so looking forward to another one tomorrow. Goodnight, friends.