Lake in Alberta
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 the 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.
Thanks to the Reverend who introduced me to this poem this evening.
2 thoughts on “Miles To Go Before I Sleep”
When I was much younger I used to spend hours if not days tramping across the fells, – sometimes overnighting as I went. It struck me then that wherever I was, I was a temporary resident, – forever “moving on”.
These days it strikes me that life’s like that. Wherever we are, now, we are all “temporary residents”.
“….And miles to go before I sleep…”
Sums it up really.
Temporary Resident has a special meaning for me given my traveling life these past months. Still more miles to go…up to Canada at the end of the month.