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  took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

Robert Frost