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.
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