Whose woods these are I could care less.
I'm simply hiking to relieve the stress.
I hope no one sees me stopping here
To catch my breath, before on I press.
My friends, I'm sure, think I'm crazy
To be out here when I could be lazy,
But I love the snow upon the ground,
And as it falls from the clouds so hazy.
All the turkeys must think it queer
That I trudge past their cabin here
Between the woods and icy creek
The snowiest morning of the year.
The woods are quiet, soft, and deep;
But I have self-promises to keep,
And miles to go; the thought makes me weep.
And so many hours to endure before I sleep.