Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening, formerly by Robert Frost

Whose house this is too well I know.
She's travelled off to college, though.
She'll never know I brooded here
Beneath the eaves of her window.

My wicked Childe would surely jeer
If he should see me standing here
And staring at the vacant spot
Where once I held my only dear.

Her arms were comfort, warmth, and light,
But I had many foes to fight
And so I left her in the night
And so I left her in the night.

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