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Selected Poems

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....

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