Poem #13

This is one of the poems I taught in my middle school English classes. I loved it because it is a simple, straight-forward poem but you can surmise a lot about what else the poem might, or could, mean. I also love the rhyme scheme: a chain rhyme of aaba bbcb ccdc dddd. Then there is the rhythm of the poem: every line has four feet (eight syllables). Iambic tetrameter, if you care to know. An iamb is an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable, in case you forgot (I know you didn't).

I recently read that Robert Frost tried to commit suicide when he was young and that he has been awarded more Pulitzer Prizes than any other writer (four). That is something we all should remember when things are not going our way. I hope you enjoy poem number thirteen.

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.