Four Songs

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To [watch]1 his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farm-house 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.

When I was but thirteen or so
  I went into a golden land,
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi
  Took me by the hand.
  
My father died, my brother too,
  They passed like fleeting dreams,
I stood where Popocatapetl
  In the sunlight gleams.
  
I dimly heard the master's voice
  And boys far-off at play, --
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi
  Had stolen me away.
  
I walked in a great golden dream
  To and fro from school -- 
Shining Popocatapetl
  The dusty streets did rule.
  
I walked home with a gold dark boy
  And never a word I'd say,
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi
  Had taken my speech away.
  
I gazed entranced upon his face
  Fairer than any flower -- 
O shining Popocatapetl
  It was thy magic hour:
  
The houses, people, traffic seemed
  Thin fading dreams by day;
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi,
  They had stolen my soul away!

I, too sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes.
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll [be]1 at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed. --

[I, too, am America.]2