Facebook Twitter Google +1     Admin


Vanity Fea




Powered by Rollyo




Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By 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.


snowy

Comentarios » Ir a formulario









Blog de notas de
José Ángel García Landa

(Biescas y Zaragoza)
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"Algo hay en el formato mismo de los blogs que estimula un desarrollo casi canceroso de nuestro ego"
(John Hiler)





Archivos

Temas

Enlaces


http://garciala.blogia.com

Blog creado con Blogia. Esta web utiliza cookies para adaptarse a tus preferencias y analítica web.
Blogia apoya a la Fundación Josep Carreras.

Contrato Coloriuris