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.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
21404 | 2023-10-19 21:58:39 | 153.17 | 99.1% |
19275 | 2023-07-20 01:25:58 | 130.90 | 98% |