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Nicola Muirhead For much of my adult life, I’ve lived in the country Robert Frost ... by these lines in that poem, which features a lonely man, a horse-drawn sled, and the dark and deep woods ...
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. The little horse must think it queer To stop ...
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