a poem that I love, from Robert Frost
| | 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; | 5 |
| | 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, | 10 |
| | 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. | 15 |
| | 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. | |