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.
"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. Public domain.
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.
"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. Public domain.
I totally remember loving this poem as a little girl in school. I loved it then. I love it now.
We're going to read it today, that's for sure! Yay. Take a moment and read it with your kids! What is your favorite poem?
We're going to read it today, that's for sure! Yay. Take a moment and read it with your kids! What is your favorite poem?
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2 comments:
I loved that poem when we read it in high school.
When I was a little girl, my Great-Grandma used to recite this poem to my cousin and I at night before bed. She would put Vick's Vapo-Rub under our noses, and tuck us into bed next to her. After we got settled, she would tell us the story of "The Touch of the Master's Hand".
My mom read it at her funeral. It's so precious to me. This is where you can read "The Touch of the Master's Hand
Blessings!
Sarah
A House on Fire
I have loved that poem since the 5th grade! Such beauty in the words and rhythm.
Other favorites for me:
The Highwayman
Ickle me, Pickle me, Tickle me too (i obviously had a wide range of tastes!) :)
Sarah Sylvia Cynthia Stout
and The Song of Hiawatha by Longfellow.
*sigh* I love poetry!
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