Paris, Richnightson, Sous le ciel Parisien

Par passé (By Gone By)

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,

it won’t 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 another way,

i doubted if I should ever come back.

or shouldn’t I ?
I shall be telling this with a sigh,

somewhere ages and ages hence :

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–

I took the less traveled by,

and that has made all by gone by.
I try….


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