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TAKEN FROM: FLAX-GOLDEN TALES
UNIT Fourteen: Life and Death
Stopping by woods
on a snowy evening
Robert Frost
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Whose woods these are I think I know
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.
Ekta Books / Flax-Golden Tales-Sounds of English / Moti Nissani’s Homepage