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
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flowers-11/
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