Whose woods these are I think I know.I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not seenot see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stopTo stop without a farmhouse nearnear
Between the woods and frozen lakefrozen lake
The darkestdarkest evening of the year.
He gives his harnessharness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.some mistake.
The only other soundThe only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.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.