Friday, September 23, 2011

POEM #6- ROBERT FROST (1874-1963)

Another favorite from school days that I had to memorize. I frequently find myself saying, "miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep" while I clean the kitchen late in the evening. Someday I hope to see a snowy scene that would merit the application of these verses; we don't get a lot of snow here, you know. Can you see it? The dark skeletons of trees reaching against a full moon, slowly dressing themselves in white, the diamonds of fresh snow sparkling on the ground? The quiet? The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

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Stopping by the 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 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.

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