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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; | |
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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, | |
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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. | |
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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.
-Robert Frost |
3 comments:
lovely; I want to go there...
our pastor read this poem just a couple of sundays ago. it looks like it's from anne of green gables.
Oh, I loovvvveee that poem. Robert Frost is my dad's favorite poet and he's quoted him for as long as I have a memory.
BTW, love the picture.
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