Favorite poem: Stopping by woods on a snowy evening

Okay, I'll keep the momentum of our online poetry festival going by submitting what I think might be one of my favorite poems for a couple reasons. One, it's by New Englander Robert Frost, who not only knew what it was like to live here in the winter, but loved hiking so much, they named a very long trail in Western Mass after him. But it's also one of my favorites because I think we can all relate to it as trail runners, no? Admiring a patch of woods you'd love to explore...even if it's someone else's property? And, yes, we all know what it's like to have "miles to go before I sleep" don't we?


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 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.