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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.
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Christmas Poetry and Stories
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My daughter has an illustrated version of the poem below by Robert Frost, and even though she is only
six, she can recite it perfectly. Needless to say, its a favorite around our house. |
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Here's a great Christmas Poetry link:
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