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.