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The woods in this poem are something to write home about. The woods must be all that and a
bag of chips, because our speaker is compelled to stop and stare at them on the freezing, dark
winter evening. There's a mysterious element to these woods as well, and we get the sense
that the speaker is not alone, even though he is very much by himself.
Some interpret the woods as an extended metaphor for death.
Here we see woods as a clear and crisp image as our speaker describes them filling up
with snow.
With these lines, we get a crystal clear image of the snowy woods and frozen lake at
night.
We can almost hear the sound of the wind in the alliteration of "sound's the sweep.