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.
Document via the Library of Congress.
Biblioklept 
This is the only poem I ever memorized for a class that I still remember word for word. So simple and so very good.
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Reblogged this on Spontaneous Creativity.
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One of the finest closing quatrains in the ever written. :)
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I really love that poem.
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So moving.
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[…] Robert Frost’s Handwritten Manuscript for “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” […]
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[…] “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, Robert Frost’s Handwritten Manuscript […]
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its a very beautiful poem i liked it
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[…] Robert Frost’s Handwritten Manuscript for “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” […]
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