The Road Not Taken
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.
Fire and Ice
Some say the world
will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve
tasted of desire
I hold with those
who favor fire.
But if it had
to perish twice,
I think I know
enough of hate
To know that for
destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.