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.
I am that girl who Hopes...........
I am that girl who understands people
I am that girl who tells the truth
I am that girl who you can tell your secrets to
I am that girl whose heart has been broken
I am that girl who finishes fights
I am that girl who still
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