Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, A cloud comes over the sunlit arch, A wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.

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.

"Men work together," I told him from the heart, "Whether they work together or apart."

The Wanderlust has got me... by the belly-aching fire