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. Source: PoetryFoundation.org This photograph was taken in 1915 to publicize the American release of Frost’s first book of poetry, “A Boy’s Will”.NH Historical Society Granite State Stories: Robert Frost publishes ‘New Hampshire’ Published: 6/29/2018 The Granite State’s most celebrated poet, Robert Frost, wrote works that…

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair,And having perhaps the better claim,Because it was grassy and wanted wear;Though as for that the passing thereHad worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally layIn leaves no step had trodden black.Oh, I kept the first for another day!Yet knowing how way leads on to way,I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sighSomewhere ages and ages hence:Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference. Robert Frost in 1943. (Eric Schaal/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images) Cover photo credit: Jennifer Graham