Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
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.
R.I.P., Higgs
-
I heard that a mass will be held after which the cemetery will be broken
and a gold stone placed.
https://www.ed.ac.uk/news/2024/statement-on-the-death-o...
1 comment:
Hey do u hav these poems all by hearted? btw i cudn't remember the opening lines of this particular poem yesterday...thnx tht u posted it....one of my favourites....thnx again!
Miss. Mason
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