And miles to go before I sleep

It is odd, the things that spring to mind without warning. I was reflecting on how very tired I am, and how much stuff I have yet to do before I can relax. And then suddenly:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

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.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse 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.

I remember reading Robert Frost many years ago, but the truth is, I didn't even remember this poem until just now. I like it, though. I find it calming, somehow.