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.