THE
ROAD
NOT
TAKEN

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.