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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8345 | 2020-12-08 05:12:43 | 95.13 | 98% |
| 7269 | 2020-11-06 02:53:48 | 85.87 | 97% |
| 4604 | 2020-10-05 00:04:04 | 72.26 | 96% |