The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST

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.