Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Frost, Robert

Read By: Jessie Alpaugh

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.

  • Robert Frost
  • 20th Century
  • English
  • Poetry
  • Nature
  • Favorite Poem Project

Robert Frost, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," courtesy of Henry Holt & Co., Publisher, New York, and the Executor of the Estate of Robert Frost.