Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Celebrating the life of Robert Frost, March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963
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.
Learn more about this poem and the poetic genius of Robert Frost.Beyond the Lines: “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
A century after its composition, Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” continues to leave readers, academics, poetry lovers, and poets alike pondering its meaning. Undoubtedly, the poem has a magical quality: its images are simple, yet elusive; the scene of dark woods, snow-blanketed trails, and a single farmhouse are painted with clarity, yet they remain open to a wide array of interpretations. Despite its subjective qualities, the poem’s “magic” has a definite structure—one well-worth investigating.
“Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Morning” was amongst a collection of poems my mother provided to me while serving in Vietnam in 1968-69, while serving behind the lines at a remote mountaintop outpost, named “Eagle’s Nest”, in the Ashau Valley with the 101st Airborne (Screaming Eagles) Division. It touched me deeply, and particularly the refrain of “miles to go before I sleep”, which inspired me to carry on, not give in to despair and remain hopeful. Thank you for the reminder and insight. Robert Frost, combined with the poems of Omar Khayyam, “If” by Rudyard Kipling, and Elihu, in the Book of Job, inspired my own poem, at age 20, in an attempt to reconcile the atrocities of war in world of darkness and hope for a new dawn in the future:
On Eagle’s Wings
On Eagle’s Wings Angels fly,
Who walk upon waters,
And soar crystal skies,
There once again we gather to meet,
Amidst the roaring thunder of a Warrior’s feat.
A Band of Brothers, from the East arise,
With the Souls of Children,
to a Savior’s cry:
“Awake Nations! Awake! Arise!
Dawn is come, a new Sunrise”.
Warren Monty Quesnell