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Stopping By Woods

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STOPPING BY WOODS
ON A SNOWY EVENING
Robert Frost (1874-1963)

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.
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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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Robert Frost
ROBERT FROST

was born in San Francisco in 1874. He moved to New England at the age of 11  and became interested in reading and writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, Mass. He was enrolled at Dartmouth College in 1892, and later at Harvard, but never earned a formal degree. 
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