Walk Poem: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost

I shall risk considering this a walk poem in that the speaker is on a journey somewhere, albeit that the speaker does pause on his journey. It might be considered a walk poem in that it does at least two things: 1) it talks about what the speaker sees on his way home. 2) it talks about what the speaker (and the speaker's horse) is thinking while on the journey.

-Ian Dugan

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.

-Robert Frost