Here is another Robert Frost Natures first green is gold. Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf is a flower. But only so an hour. Leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief. Dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost is my favorite poet. This poem is a favorite as it reminds me of the times my mother and I would walk at night through snow covered streets. The quiet and stillness -and we would talk about the homes that seem so inviting.