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.