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Analysis and comments on Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

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Comment 235 of 1135, added on May 8th, 2008 at 7:33 AM.

Hi! I'm currently taking up Bachelor of Science in Nursing in a prestigious
school in the Philippines but we have this minor subject, english
literaures of the world.

This masterpiece poem of Frost simply states that the speaker or the writer
is in a dilemma because as stated in the poem, he said that the owner of
this village wont see him if he will just stay for a while because he was
tempted to stay here but a long journey awaits him. The speaker is bemused
if he's gonna stay or not because he has a promise to be kept and that is
to return in reality, the world of man, the civilization and this nature
represents a wish to die because its lovely, dark, and deep.

Jairus from Philippines
Comment 234 of 1135, added on April 18th, 2008 at 9:25 AM.

iam a palestinian student, i study english lit. and this poem is the one
which is in my book.
i hope somebody to add me to help me in something.

montana from Israel
Comment 233 of 1135, added on March 24th, 2008 at 12:43 AM.

I have always felt this poem was a metaphor for suicide. Rather than
meaning to inspire it seems the main character has resigned himself to
living to meet his obligations. Beautiful and sad.

Roe from United States
Comment 232 of 1135, added on March 12th, 2008 at 3:22 PM.

Frankly speaking, I do'nt know what feelings the writer want to express.I
even don't know who he is,because i come from china. But i know that this
is a very beautiful poem, and i consider that the writer understands life
better than most of the other people.

zhxyforever from China
Comment 231 of 1135, added on March 7th, 2008 at 4:05 AM.

im 13 studing this poem in school for all u people thank u very much and
im sure all your comments will help me in my examination

i find the poem unique as well as true in heart
it is how this man suffers and finally dies in peace

and oh yah im Indian stayin in the United Arab Emirates

Jules from United Arab Emirates
Comment 230 of 1135, added on February 24th, 2008 at 2:39 PM.

as i read this poem i think this is an interpretation of R. Frost's strong
belief in God. The word "He" in the poem is referring to God. and the line
"he will not see me stopping here, to watch his woods fill up with snow"
means that as a human being the trials that come into his way will not be a
cause for him to stop living and believing. "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" means that life is so beautiful, full of trials
and hindrances that may test our belief in Him. but i have promises to
keep--to live and survive the trials that he may give me... because these
trials are the things that will teach me to be strong and be humane.

wilma from Philippines
Comment 229 of 1135, added on February 20th, 2008 at 9:51 PM.


Was beautiful out feeding tonight. There was a snow squall that dropped
about half an inch in 5-10 minutes. Covered the cattle, the calves, the
corral, the countryside, and my coat. Then the clouds scattered and raced
each other across the sky. They caused a natural strobe-light effect
alternately illuminating and hiding the livestock, the snowcovered fields,
woods and branches, as they passed in front of the nearing-full-moon. I
leaned against a round bale and listened to the concert of a dozen
contented cows agresssively munching hay. They were accompanied by the
faint humming of a far-off airplane and the soft, low, bass-drumming of the
natural gas compressor engines at the McWhorter and the Lightburn Stations,
a few miles distant. The four new calves, with bellies full of warm milk,
danced through the hay I had spread along the fence, limboed under the
'lectric fence into the lane, then do-sah-doed among the round bales stored
under the hemlock tree. The huge ancient double-trunked hemlock that had
sheltered multiple generations and species of birds, livestock, wildlife,
and my ancestors just as it sheltered me and the calves now by bowing its
boughs under a burden of snow like a hen bowing her wings to shelter a
cluster of chicks.

No sirens, no horns, no stereos blasting as there were no cars on the
roads. No dirt bikes, weedeaters, lawnmowers nor chainsaws. A soothing
sound far different than a live band at a local gig who think music must be
loud to be good. They turn the volume up so much that you can’t hear the
music or the words. No drunks yelling obscenities. Not a human voice to
be heard. I didn't want to go back in just to face the eleven o’clock news.

I thought of Robert Frost who said, in Stopping by Woods on a Winter
Evening, “But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and
miles to go before I sleep.” I thought of the travelers in that far off
airplane and the miles they had made the commitment to go, to go to keep
the various promises they had made. They chose freely to go but were now
prisoners in that plane; prisoners self-sentenced to their cell for the
duration of the flight to their destination with no escape but through
their thoughts and the comforts within the confines of the cabin. If they
only knew what I had they might want to trade. Perhaps they were asleep
already. I thought of those who failed to keep their promises because
their journeys came to an untimely end.

Frost considered the owner of the wood and if he would object to him
stopping there. These woods and cows and meadow and moment are mine and no
one sees me here or knows where I am. Not even one of the many millions in
this world. Its just as well for they might think something wrong to see a
man, outstanding in his field, in such weather.

Nor is anyone here with whom to share it. It seems so selfish to have it
all to myself but were there a crowd it would not be the same. The essence
of solitude cannot be shared. To share even a smidgen of it, I must write
it, edit it, and refine it, let it grow cold and re-visit it. Simply
telling it would not suffice. I just stood and listened and watched until
the melting snow chilled my shoulders and told me it was time to go in.
Time to go in and enjoy the fireside and peck out a momento of the occasion
for future enlightment, and to reflect on what I had experienced. And time
to get a good nights sleep to be rested for the challenges of the miles to
go and promises to be kept tomorrow. I know the respite and rejuvenenation
Frost enjoyed stopping by the wood that evening. The respite and
rejuvenation we all surely need from time to time as we, as did he, face
our immediate responsibilities as well as the miles to go and promises to
be kept on all of the tomorrows before we sleep that final sleep to which
Frost must have been alluding when he repeated the last stanza, “and miles
to go before I sleep.”

TerryWashburn from United States
Comment 228 of 1135, added on February 15th, 2008 at 4:47 PM.

I first met this poem when I heard a short extract on a television
programme. The extract did not identify the poem nor the writer. It stayed
with me a long time and eventually I had to look up the source of the
quotation. Since then, many years ago, it has stayed with me and inspiped
me. Thank you Robert Frost.

Roy Morris from United Kingdom
Comment 227 of 1135, added on February 5th, 2008 at 6:23 AM.

i just love this poem 'cos it is extensively inspirational. whenever i m
tired with the odds of life or whenever i feel that my vision is diverting
from my dreams, i just read last lines of the poem and it can easily
revitalize me to go back onto the track and work hard for achieving the
goals.because there are lots of dreams of mine to be fulfilled before my
life gets over .....

stuti from India
Comment 226 of 1135, added on January 26th, 2008 at 3:08 AM.

I love the work of Robert Frost, because it reminds us to continue
struggling inspite of the hindrances that we encounter.It gives us strength
and determines clearly our objective in life. Though we stumble along our
way, but still continuing to struggle and not forgetting the obligations in

cathy from Philippines

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Information about Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Poet: Robert Frost
Poem: 24. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Volume: New Hampshire
Year: 1923
Added: Feb 1 2004
Viewed: 3805 times
Poem of the Day: Jun 26 2000

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