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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 

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