/ http://www.slideshare.net/images/logo.gif / 際際滷Share feed for 際際滷shows by User: sarmahi11 https://cdn.slidesharecdn.com/profile-photo-sarmahi11-48x48.jpg?cb=1523561985 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.