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.