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. |
5 |
|
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. |
10 |
|
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. |
15 |
|
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. |
20 |