I was walking back from the ski gondola tonight and found this scene.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROST
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.
I remembered it in its entirety, which should be a credit to my middle school English teachers. It didn’t impress my 6 year old, who asked how many miles the guy still had left to go until it was his bedtime and would he get a snack first.
But I did remember it and that is something.