Brier Rose Chapel - #0001
Sister Margaretta Nicodemus
Former "Third Abbess" of the FTSC
Stopping by
Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost,
1874 - 1963
Whose woods these are
I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch is 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. |
