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.