"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost

 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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.

Enjoy the poem with beautiful music

Poem video👇

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Who wrote the poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening?"

Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)

Robert Frost was an American poet who was born in San Francisco, California. Frost’s life was marked by grief and loss. When he was 11, his father died of tuberculosis, leaving just eight dollars. Frost’s mother died of cancer when he was 26. Mental illness ran in his family. He and his mother suffered from depression, and his sister and his daughter were committed to mental hospitals. Using realistic depictions of rural life, his poems often examined complex social and philosophical themes. Frost’s first book was published at the age of 40, but he ended up winning four Pulitzer Prizes for poetry and becoming the most famous poet of his time.

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" explanation

In the poem, the speaker has stopped by in the woods on a snowy evening, torn between two choices: staying in the woods and heading home. Mesmerized by the naturalistic beauty of the snowy woods, the speaker allows himself a brief moment of peaceful distraction from his mundane responsibilities. But in the end, he decides to go back to his worldly obligations. Somewhat darker undertones to the poem caused some people to interpret the word “sleep” as a kind of death wish, a desire to be free from the demands of life. According to Frost, he wrote this beautiful poem in 1922 in the few moments when he took a break, watching the sunrise, after spending the night writing ‘New Hampshire,’ a very long poem.