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| The road not taken |
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THE
ROAD NOT TAKEN
Robert
Frost Two roads diverged in a
yellow wood, And sorry I could not
travel both And be one traveler, long
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: And that has made all the difference.
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