The rest of the Frost poem: 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. (Nothing gold on this earth, but as C.S. Lewis points out, He gives "refreshments on the journey" -- like lilacs and golden trees.)
What sort of tree is that all gold? It's stunning! And tall.
ReplyDeleteJen,
ReplyDeleteIsn't it lovely? Believe it or not, it's a plain old oak tree that stands between the parsonage and St. Paul's church.
It snowed today.
ReplyDeleteBut the turn out for our congregations "Tunefully Made" workshop was strong.
Oaks are never "plain," Pastor Weedon!
ReplyDeleteWere the lilacs for me, Pastor?
ReplyDeleteIt's as close as I'll get to them. :(
But they're beautiful.
Helen
Helen,
ReplyDeleteYou betcha they're for you! I wish they could digitize smell...
The rest of the Frost poem: 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. (Nothing gold on this earth, but as C.S. Lewis points out, He gives "refreshments on the journey" -- like lilacs and golden trees.)
ReplyDelete