|
diverged in a yellow |
| And I not both |
| And be one traveler, long I stood |
| And looked down one as as I could |
| To it bent in the undergrowth. |
|
| the other, as just as fair, |
| And having perhaps the better claim, |
| it was grassy and wear; |
| Though as for the passing |
| worn them really about the same. |
|
| And morning lay |
| In no trodden black. |
| I kept the first for another |
| how way on to way, |
| I doubted if I should ever back. |
|
| I shall be telling this a sigh |
| Somewhere ages and ages hence: |
| roads in a wood, and I-- |
| I took the one less by, |
| And that has made all the |