Friday, December 22, 2006

Happy first day of winter, and shortest day of the year.

Here's one of the first poems I helped Gaby memorize. It was wonderful spending so much time in those snowy woods with Frost. I was told in college that the last stanza has to do with death. Perhaps, but I am reminded of sitting in Adoration, soaking in the Lord's presence, fighting the urgency of my daily duties.
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's 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.

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