The Flowers

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Day after day,
  At spring's return,
  I watch my flowers, how they burn
  Their lives away.

  The candle crocus
  And daffodil gold
  Drink fire of the sunshine--
  Quickly cold.

  And the proud tulip--
  How red he glows!--
  Is quenched ere summer
  Can kindle the rose.

  Purple as the innermost
  Core of a sinking flame,
  Deep in the leaves the violets smoulder
  To the dust whence they came.

  Day after day
  At spring's return,
  I watch my flowers, how they burn
  Their lives away,
  Day after day ...

© Aldous Huxley