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 marked 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.