POEMS I DIG WHILE ON THE ROAD

       1.                                    The Road Not Taken

by Robert Frost

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.

           
                                .Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

                 Whose woods these are I think I know.
                His house is in the village though;
                He will not see me stopping here
                To watch his woods fill up with snow.


                My little horse must think it queer
                To stop without a farmhouse near
                Between the woods and frozen lake
                The darkest evening of the year.


                He gives his harness bells a shake
                To ask if there is some mistake.
                The only other sound's the sweep
                Of easy wind and downy flake.


                The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
                But I have promises to keep,
                And miles to go before I sleep,
                And miles to go before I sleep.