I could remember one thing, since my childhood, I am fascinated to poems. I had teachers in Cadet College who were the source of inspiration of my attraction and fascination to the English literature.
I can remember of my school days — whenever I went to library, I liked to find out the books like “American literature, Western literature” and passed hours in reading Robert Frost, William Blake, William Wordsworth, Robert Browning, TS Eliot…. and many others. The interesting part was, I used to pass times more in turning on the pages than reading. 40 minutes were so short to dive into the ocean of literature…
And miles to go before I sleep….
I can clearly recollect that I was spellbound with the books while excitements were inside heart… and I loved them. I loved the rhythm in a poem, in a dramatic dialogue….
I could remember an English Literature class, while my sir was telling about a line– “And miles to go before I sleep“, while he was telling how much work we have to do on earth…
I am going to share a poem now:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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.
(Composed by Robert Frost)
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