Treasure Island

Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

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
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  • Sagnik Chakraborty (9/10/2014 10:58:00 AM)

    The eternal question of, and answer to, the love of beauty vs. the call of duty. Undoubtedly one of my most favourite poems in English, or any other language. (Report) Reply

  • Tim Smith (9/2/2014 5:00:00 PM)

    Many years ago, I had to write a paper on Frosts, Birches. Research showed others with weird interpretations. Mine received an A.
    My point being poetry can mean something different to each reader. (Report) Reply

  • Tim Smith (9/2/2014 4:58:00 PM)

    I would have read it with different accents. It is a favorite of mine though.
    I once read a Readers digest story of an English teacher who ran into a student years later, and having been wondering how much of what she had taught and this former student had kept, he stated that he had to go shouting, miles to go before I sleep. (Report) Reply

  • George Wolff (8/22/2014 3:34:00 PM)

    The speaker is riding alone in his hourse-drawn sled on a snowy evening. He stops to watch the woods fill up with snow, but he is aware the oweer might be suspicious and his horse wants to get to warmth and food and get his harness off. The speaker feels the tension between his pleasure in stopping and the bonds that tie him to society and to practical demands. He will go on to meet these demands but the stopping has been good. It was an impractical escape into aesthetic pleasure, in his mind associated with sleep and perhaps even resting in peace after death. (Report) Reply

  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (8/19/2014 8:09:00 AM)

    This is the famous poem and the last or concluding stanza is much more effective, I think this is the stanza which is thesoul of the poem, above three stanza is only supporting and paving path for the last...superb p[oem My salutation to the poet, may he live in peace (Report) Reply

  • Ishita Chakrabarty (8/14/2014 2:15:00 PM)

    This poem has an altruistic air about it.Frost's poems always remind me about the choices we make in life.His poems make me crave for more.According to me sleep denotes the eternal sleep - death. Seems more like we have a lot to achieve before death can force us asleep. (Report) Reply

    Sagnik Chakraborty (9/10/2014 11:11:00 AM)

    I agree, 'sleep' refers to death, the ultimate rest that we go to. But before we can afford to bid Good night to the world, we have before us our duties, for which, if need be, we must also sacrifice our love for beauty, embodied here by the beautiful woods.

  • Bill Knotts (6/27/2014 1:46:00 AM)

    This poem is so beautiful, innocent… and sad. A lethal mix which has the ability to touch all of you. Like life itself it offers such joy and sorrow.
    Desiring death is forbidden to us even though we may be drawn to the comfort it might offer. He has gone to this forbidden place where he knows he should not be. (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Sanchez (4/28/2014 12:46:00 PM)

    i wish it was snowing. then again, when it snows, i wish its warm (Report) Reply

    Richard Provencher (8/26/2014 9:40:00 AM)

    Joseph, here in Nova Scotia we get our share of snow. A few years ago a storm landed about three feet on our community. My wife did not accompany me when I tented out in the winter, which is great fun.

  • * Sunprincess * (4/27/2014 12:10:00 AM)

    ...........truly one of the best poems ever written....and with a touch of mystery which leaves me wondering what those promises to keep are....loved reading this poem... (Report) Reply

  • Crystal Star (4/1/2014 4:50:00 AM)

    By far, this is one poem I feel so attached to. The last lines I came across first in a childhood book I read about Nehru and then I read the whole poem to love it more. Then I was obsessed with Robert Frost poetry. (Report) Reply

  • Kepa Gadu (3/25/2014 4:27:00 PM)

    my boyfriends dad just got a great Ford Escape by working part time from a macbook. published here http: //tr.im/4zzny (Report) Reply

  • Patrick Dennis (2/8/2014 12:30:00 AM)

    I have often looked out on a mountain range where the foothills fold on fold ascend; and I have imagined the unique magic of each hidden valley. The repetition of the last two lines reminds me of that. As any young child will testify, there is beauty in repetition - and each repetition is somehow unique.

    The poem as a whole to me resonates with the transfiguration story ((Mark 9: 2-6) .Behold it is good for us to be here - - - but he knew not what he said. The journey is far from over. (Report) Reply

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