I copy pasted this classic poetry as a trial to check out my various themes of my supposedly new blog. And now i don't feel like removing it. Needless to say, this is one of my favorite poem. In fact, i have never met anyone who hate this woods. So, here's Robert Frost as my first post. And he's still going miles after he sleep.
Stopping By 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