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 on 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.
Robert Frost
