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.
Robert Frost was born in California in 1874 though his mother was a Scottish immigrant and his father’s family came from Devon. Most of his best known poems draw on the countryside of rural early twentieth century New Hampshire though he first enjoyed success as a poet while living in England in the years before and during the early part of the First World War. There he became a member of a circle known as the Dymock Poets that included Edward Thomas. Frost enjoyed significant success during his lifetime and ‘Stopping By Woods’ is one of his best loved poems.
Poem and words contributed by David Underdown.