Scanning A Poem - 2. Speaking
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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.