Friday, February 7 — Snow, Beauty, Promises, fatigue.
This winter’s snow is acting like winter: demanding & labor-intense, wearisome. . As a help to transcending plodding through these days, here is an offering from Robert Frost (1874-1963), one of the great U.S. poets of the 20th century. “Stopping by Woods” is one of his understated classics, exploring the tension between stillness and beauty vs commitments and weariness.
Have a good weekend.
john st sj
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.
Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. Reprinted with the permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.
