Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold, Her 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.

And Death Shall Have No Dominion

And death shall have no dominion. Dead man naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.

Dirge

COME away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet,

"In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design

A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth - Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? - Portent in little, assorted death and blight Like the ingredients of a witches' broth? - The beady spider, the flower like a froth, And the moth carried like a paper kite. What had that flower to do with being white,

Flower

Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust. I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am aware, and the time of offering go by. Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time.

Water

Everything on the earth bristled, the bramble pricked and the green thread nibbled away, the petal fell, falling until the only flower was the falling itself. Water is another matter, has no direction but its own bright grace, runs through all imaginable colors, takes limpid lessons from stone, and in those functionings plays out

My Pretty Rose Tree

A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said 'I've a pretty rose tree,' And I passed the sweet flower o'er. Then I went to my pretty rose tree, To tend her by day and by night; But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight.

Little Purple Flower

I am a little purple flower My petals so extremely small I 've stood in the grass for many an hour Enjoying a breeze most of all But, oh, what happened to my peers! Just yesterday, it moved me to tears While the children of John were playing their game My peers were trampled to death, what a shame

All All And All The Dry Worlds Lever

I All all and all the dry worlds lever, Stage of the ice, the solid ocean, All from the oil, the pound of lava. City of spring, the governed flower, Turns in the earth that turns the ashen Towns around on a wheel of fire. How now my flesh, my naked fellow,

Design

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth -- Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches' broth -- A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth, And dead wings carried like a paper kite. What had that flower to do with being white,

The Flower

Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. To and fro they went Thro' my garden bower, And muttering discontent Cursed me and my flower.

Beauty

The beautiful, the fair, the elegant, Is that which pleases us, says Kant, Without a thought of interest or advantage. I used to watch men when they spoke of beauty And measure their enthusiasm. One An old man, seeing a () setting sun, Praised it () a certain sense of duty To the calm evening and his time of life. I know another man that never says a Beauty

Nature

Nature is beautiful nature is fun love it or hate it nature is something to love nature is god's gift to us Nature Nature we love wate and feed nature Nature water's and feed's us

Alchemy

I lift my heart as spring lifts up A yellow daisy to the rain; My heart will be a lovely cup Altho' it holds but pain. For I shall learn from flower and leaf That color every drop they hold, To change the lifeless wine of grief To living gold.

Oh! Flower, I Feel Sorry For You! ! !

I saw a nice little flower… Enjoying herself in the nice warm fields… The place felt fine, what a beautiful sight! ! Why didn't it come yesterday? ! But the joy didn't last long enough…what a pity! ‘Cause the flower was plucked away! ! ! It was no longer there So was the beauty How gloomy the place felt now for sight! ! Why do flowers bloom, if it has to be murdered this way? ?

Ecstasy

Cover mine eyes, O my Love! Mine eyes that are weary of bliss As of light that is poignant and strong O silence my lips with a kiss, My lips that are weary of song! Shelter my soul, O my love! My soul is bent low with the pain And the burden of love, like the grace Of a flower that is smitten with rain: O shelter my soul from thy face!

A Loom Of Years

In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea, In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree, Under the breath of laughter, deep in the tide of tears, I hear the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years. The leaves of the winter wither and sink in the forest mould To colour the flowers of April with purple and white and gold: Light and scent and music die and are born again In the heart of a grey-haired woman who wakes in a world of pain.

Leaves Compared With Flowers

A tree's leaves may be ever so good, So may its bar, so may its wood; But unless you put the right thing to its root It never will show much flower or fruit. But I may be one who does not care Ever to have tree bloom or bear. Leaves for smooth and bark for rough, Leaves and bark may be tree enough.

A Love Poem

You and me Me and you Flower-bee Grass and dew.

God

In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips, I ascended the holy mountain and spoke unto God, saying, 'Master, I am thy slave. Thy hidden will is my law and I shall obey thee for ever more.' But God made no answer, and like a mighty tempest passed away. And after a thousand years I ascended the holy mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, 'Creator, I am thy creation. Out of clay hast thou fashioned me and to thee I owe mine all.' And God made no answer, but like a thousand swift wings passed away.