Harshit's fav poems
Poetry is love

Stopping by 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