The Road Not
Taken by ROBERT FROST
Two roads
diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry
I could not travel both
And be one
traveller, long I stood
And looked
down one as far as I could
To where
it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took
the other, 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 travelled by,
And that
has made all the difference.
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