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poem by Charles Dickens
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Nothing Gold Can Stay
BY ROBERT FROST
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.
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“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald
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Hungarian National Gallery 2019
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