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Stopping By Woods
On a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost
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.
little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
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.
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.
roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I would ever come back.
shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain--and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky
the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.