Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I couldTo 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 thereHad worn them really about the same,And both that morning equally layIn 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 sighSomewhere 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.
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