Robert Frost on the Fragility of Early Spring

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her first leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

In honor of our--delayed!--Spring and Poetry Month, which I thought was March...but their website says it's April.

All the better--we have more than another month to leaf through our poetry books and revisit poets, great and minor, who we enjoy.