Poem by Robert Frost
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature's first green is goldHer hardest hue to hold.
Her early 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.
This time of year always makes me think of this poem.
1 comment:
The kind of gold that goes in the bank likewise has a distressing way of vanishing.
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