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THE ROAD NOT TAKENTwo 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.
Robert Frost is considered one of the most beloved poets of America. His poetry seemed to encapsulate the kernal
of American values and ideologies. However, these poems might be looked at in another light: Like Eliot, Frost also
sought another audience in England.
But I get ahead of myself. Before looking at the three years Frost spent in England and the subsequent success
found by returning to America, we must first examine the early life of this prolific poet.
So, without further ado, let us get started by furthering that range on that road not taken (at least, not very
often)...
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