The Road Not Taken

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.