The Flowers By Aldous Leonard Huxley

   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 …