N/T - SNOWY EVENING

[BLACK BART]

Whose woods these are I think I know,

His house is in the vilage 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 (1874-1963)

[Catherine]

I've always loved this one.