I couldn't help but think of Robert Frost's "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening." I think I read that poem in about the fifth grade, and I still for some reason remember the words.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
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.
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
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