by Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her first leaf's a flower,
But only so an hour.
So leaf subsides to leaf,
And Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day,
Nothing gold can stay.
*This poem may have some minor errors, as I'm posting it from memory. After hearing it 12 times this past week, however, I think I've gotten the gist.
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