Posted by Jai on November 27, 2003, at 15:54:38
In reply to more shelley, posted by zeugma on November 27, 2003, at 12:43:03
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.
Robert Frost
This poem choked me up to read again. My mother used to read it to us children at bedtime.
Jai
poster:Jai
thread:282653
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20031124/msgs/284507.html