The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost (1874-1963)
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.
Insights...
Grasping the inner nature of things intuitively.
