Question

Whose woods these we thinkin
His house is in the village though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with
My little horse must think it queet
To stop without a farm house next
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.​

Answer 1

Hi friend!

The poem is Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.

❤ GNR here ❤