Two Roads Diverged In A Yell

Written by Robert Frost on January 1, 1916
Arranged by Chris Barker on February 21, 2013
Published in Issue 007

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, I took the one less traveled by, 
   and that has made all the difference.