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.