Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

[dragonyphoenix]

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening 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

[dragonyphoenix.livejournal.com]

If I remember correctly, he was a teacher. He felt he had to choose which was his real passion, teaching or poetry. We sort of know which one he picked. So he gave up teaching to take up farming because it would leave him more time to devote to his poetry.

it's weighted in painful and difficult reality. Yes, you described it very well.