Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening - Poem by Robert Frost

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.

Comments about Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

  • (12/11/2017 5:58:00 AM)


    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (12/10/2017 4:43:00 AM)

    The poem is very nice it is logical to know (Report) Reply

  • (12/7/2017 2:29:00 PM)

    Ahhh, depravity is such a terrible thing to waste (Report) Reply

  • (12/5/2017 3:05:00 PM)

    I like it very much it is very peaceful and really takes you into the wintery woods (Report) Reply

  • (12/5/2017 5:58:00 AM)

    I love this poem very much. (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Gates (11/28/2017 2:22:00 PM)

    y'all two who dislike me are gonna pay......................... (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Gates (11/27/2017 2:31:00 PM)

    what up my nigga you like these poems like you should my rap (Report) Reply

  • (11/27/2017 1:59:00 PM)

    bro what the f*ck people who dislike me are gonna wish they liked me just because of my reputation (Report) Reply

  • (11/27/2017 1:44:00 PM)

    it is a rare peace of a special mans words my nigga do not disrespect we clear (Report) Reply

  • (11/26/2017 7:22:00 AM)

    Reminds me of great people (Report) Reply

  • (11/21/2017 1:57:00 PM)

    true dat it is very rare (Report) Reply

  • (11/21/2017 1:55:00 PM)

    bro i said this shxt is sick as f**k bro d*mn (Report) Reply

  • (11/21/2017 1:49:00 PM)

    hi hhhhhhhhhhhhhiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihhhhhhhh (Report) Reply

  • (11/21/2017 1:48:00 PM)

    it is sick but not as sick as my rap any means. (Report) Reply

  • (11/21/2017 1:46:00 PM)

    this poem was not that bad it is actually pretty good (Report) Reply

  • (11/16/2017 5:41:00 PM)

    i remember studying this poem in high school and it became fixed in my memory the whole visual of it. it is so much of a sensorial poem it leaves you with a small chill in your winter coat (Report) Reply

    kevin gates (11/27/2017 2:12:00 PM)

    how the f*ck are you three muther fuckers gonna be like that you careless ass muther fuckers you dont give a shit about this persons feelings thats f*cked up damn im so pissed off right now...............

  • (11/16/2017 2:54:00 PM)

    A poem is a life nice one (Report) Reply

  • (11/16/2017 2:54:00 PM)

    A poem is a life nice one (Report) Reply

  • (11/15/2017 7:32:00 PM)

    how many lines is this pome (Report) Reply

  • (11/14/2017 10:19:00 PM)

    My favorite poem of all time. So evocative and haunting yet thought-provoking. It gives me strength to continue. I also have promises to keep, and must keep them. Sometime, miles from now, I will have my sleep. (Report) Reply

Read all 365 comments »

# 8 poem on top 500 Poems

User Rating:
4,6 / 5 ( 760 votes ) 337

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: horse, sleep, snow, house, wind, dark

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

Poem Edited: Monday, January 25, 2016

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