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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  • 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

  • * 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

  • J. Scouler (1/14/2014 9:10:00 PM)

    To me, it seems he is talking about ones darkest hour? When our heart breaks, really breaks, death may seem like the answer. Death can seem like beautiul dark peace. As we contemplate this dark peace, it does however, occur to us that there is still much unfinished business, promises to keep, hearts we may break if we CHOOSE to sleep. (Report) Reply

  • Doruk Kaynak (1/6/2014 2:16:00 PM)

    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.
    Why shan't an individual reach the conforting state of sleep, the endless sleep which is death?
    Why do we feel like we are bound to life and we owe to existance?
    Is it because we are meant to be something more something greater?
    can we truly weave destiny?
    or are these just an illusion and our bond to life is embossed on the fabric of our creation?

    Frost is the master of hiding deep meanings in his poems and he raises a lot of questions in me. (Report) Reply

  • Stephen W (12/31/2013 1:53:00 PM)

    I think people would find Frost's poetry easier to understand if they read the biography of him provided on this site, which provides valuable context. (Report) Reply

  • Thomas Harris (12/21/2013 1:19:00 PM)

    I read a critic years ago who thought that the man in the poem was a country physician on his last rounds of the day, torn between resting and the need to finish the chores of the day. That makes sense in terms of literality; the rest is quite resonant on any number of themes. (Report) Reply

  • Stephen W (12/20/2013 4:49:00 PM)

    Some people look too much for metaphor in Frost's work, in my opinion. I'm quite confident he saw the scene he describes. What he did was to see the meaning in the world around him. (Report) Reply

  • Grey Lady (11/23/2013 7:48:00 AM)

    In my opinion, Frost is talking about the lure of death as an escape from a hard or perhaps tedious life. It is the knowledge that there will come a time when there will be peace and rest in the future once he has finished his earthly obligations. He does not complicate the vision with any religious overtones, which I appreciate since it makes his statement more universal. Perhaps the posted responses to this poem validate my observation. Death comes to us all. Whether you fear it, ignore it, welcome it or have some other perspective, it still comes to us all. I think Frost proposes a very mature attitude toward it. He accepts it. (Report) Reply

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