anthonyarmstrong’s blog

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

by Robert Frost (1874-1963)

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When I hear the word subtlety, I think of Robert Frost and the deceptive simplicity of “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.”  As you read the poem, I ask you perhaps reflect on the poem’s theme.  Following the poem, I offer some of my reflections on this great work.

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 sounds 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.

Let me begin my comments by saying that I have known this poem  with an ever increasing affection for about fifty years.  I am sure I heard it in my early childhood.  It was a memory work assignment when I was in grade seven.  The works of Robert Frost were a significant part of my high school English classes.  And when I became a high school  English teacher, I presented the works of Frost to my students.  It was during preparation for those high school English lessons that I became aware that “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” is much more than a working man’s account of his responsibilities curtailing his enjoyment of a picturesque winter evening.  Of course, at one level that is the narrative line of the poem, but at a subtler level it is about much more.

The first line of the poem has an unusual syntax that suggests the reflective mood of the speaker, for it puts the object of his thoughts, “Whose woods these are,” ahead of the subject “I.”  It would be far more natural to say, “I think I know whose woods these are”  or “I know who owns these woods.”  And why does the speaker care who owns the woods?  For some reason he seems concerned about the owner of the woods seeing him watch the woods fill up with snow.  I suggest he does not want to be seen.  He does not want to reveal his gentleness, imagination, and appreciation of beauty.  He functions in a man’s world, and sensitivity to beauty would be unmanly.  If he were asked what he was doing, would he say, “The snow falling in the woods is so beautiful that I just had to stop and watch”?  I think he is more likely to say something like, “I’m resting the horse.”  In the privacy of the woods, he can admit to himself that he differs from the man who owns the property.  The owner could live in this beauty but chooses to live in town.  The speaker chooses to indulge in a few moments of natural intoxication.

In the second stanza we learn that stopping to celebrate the beauty of falling snow is certainly not the speaker’s usual behaviour, and he imagines that his horse must “think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near.”  The horse is also male, and like the man is a working creature used to labour associated with farming.  In a draft copy of the poem, Frost used the expression “my steaming horse.”  The change to “little horse” further reveals the speaker’s gentle attitude.  The fact that the horse is a working animal is self-evident, and the horse, like the owner of the woods, does not appreciate the beauty the speaker is drawn to.

The second stanza also reveals that time and space have conspired to guard the man’s secret sensitivity.  Just look at where and when it is that the speaker yields to his true self.  He is away from town in an isolated area “between the woods and frozen lake.”  It must be winter solstice, for that is  “the darkest evening of the year.”  The darkest evening of the year follows the shortest day.  “The darkest evening” stresses the gloom and drudgery of the speaker’s life; the shortest day emphasizes the brevity of the speaker’s joy; both the darkness of the evening and the shortness of the day protect his secret.

In stanza three the speaker further personifies the horse when he interprets the sound of its harness bells as the announcement of a question: Have we stopped here by mistake?  Just imagine harness bells and the contrast they have with the sibilance and softness of “the only other sound’s the sweep / of easy wind and downy flake.”  The contrast of sounds is the contrast between the world of responsibility and the world of sensitive appreciation.

The last stanza reaffirms the speaker’s appreciation of beauty: “The woods are lovely, dark and deep.”  But he is controlled by society’s concept of what a man must do, and he yields to responsibility and the promises he must keep.  Leaving the woods is like leaving a lover, and it will be a long time before he can rest from his labours and return to her.  And when will that rest or “sleep” arrive?  Will it be when his immediate chores are done, when his working life is done, or when life itself is done?

What Frost says to me is that a socially instilled misconception of what a man is prevents men from expressing their sensitivity to beauty.

                  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.