Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry
I could not travel both And be one traveller, 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 travelled
by, And that has made all the difference.