Лезли Крэбтри


Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

		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.

		1922