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 wanter 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 many leads onto way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and agences hence;

Two roads diverged in a wood,

And I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

BY: ROBERT FROST