This poem is a reply poem for Robert Frost's poem Passing By Woods On A Snowy Evening.

***

These woods are mine and I think I know,

Thy youth O'man, standing in the snow;

Thy days passed with childish glee,

Careless thee were at that time though.

The troubles of your daily life,

Have now crowded over your dreams,

Thy cherished childhood desires,

Have been drowned in mourning streams.

The easy wind and downy flake,

Has buried deep thy youth O'man,

Thy careless days are well but past,

And tiring old age has now began.

The woods are lovely, dark and freezed,

The past memoirs are etched so deep,

In the flakes of snow and hollow trees,

The bird's lament for the dead asleep.

***