Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village. Though:
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.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
Sums up my feelings fer now. Of obligations and expectations to fulfill.
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.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
Sums up my feelings fer now. Of obligations and expectations to fulfill.
# posted by gougou @ 10:37 PM 
