Randall Thompson‘s hauntingly beautiful choral setting of a poem by Robert Frost.
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
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.