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Two roads
diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not
travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And
looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in
the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as
fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because
it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that,
the passing there
Had worn them really about the
same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves
no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for
another day!
Yet knowing how way leads to way,
I
doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be
telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages
hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took
the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the
difference.
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