Stopping by the woods by Robert Frost
Stopping by the 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 hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of… Sigue leyendo "Stopping by the woods by Robert Frost