Snow Day

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

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Whose woods these are I think I know,

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his house is in the village though.

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He will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow.

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My little horse must think it queer,

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to stop without a farmhouse near.

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Between the woods and frozen lake,

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the darkest evening of the year.

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He gives his harness bells a shake, to ask if there is some mistake.

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The only other sound is the ease of wind of downyflake.

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The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep.

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And miles to go before I sleep.

                   Miles to go before I sleep.

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Love, Daddio

xo

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