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.
The Road Not Taken. Mountain Interval. 1920.
The more we read of Robert Frost, the more we grow in awe of him. We created
this website for his lesser known poems but Frost lovers across the world
write to us and ask for the famous poems so we’ve included those too.
Each month we try and analyze one Frost poem in the Spotlight
section. There is a growing collection of poems that you will find here.
Awards and Recognition for this Site
