ours poetica
Tay Zonday reads “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening”
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Comments: | 55 |
Duration: | 01:54 |
Uploaded: | 2019-12-23 |
Last sync: | 2024-11-26 11:45 |
Tay Zonday reads the Robert Frost poem "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening”.
Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
Tay Zonday:
https://twitter.com/TayZonday
https://www.youtube.com/TayZonday
11 issues of Poetry, subscribe today for $20: https://poetrymagazine.org/OursPoetica
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Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
Tay Zonday:
https://twitter.com/TayZonday
https://www.youtube.com/TayZonday
11 issues of Poetry, subscribe today for $20: https://poetrymagazine.org/OursPoetica
Follow us elsewhere for the full Ours Poetica experience:
twitter.com/ourspoeticashow
instagram.com/ourspoeticashow
facebook.com/ourspoeticashow
#poetry #ourspoetica
I'm Tay Zonday and I'm going to read "Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening" 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 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.
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 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.