"Easy wind and downy flake"

We had a White Christmas this year and it was nothing short of magical.  I stared out the car window, silently, as we drove home from Georgia, and whispered this over and over in my head:

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.