Christopher Morley

Burning Leaves, November

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THESE are the folios of April,
All the library of spring,
Missals gilt and rubricated
With the frost's illumining.

Ruthless, we destroy these treasures,
Set the torch with hand profane--
Gone, like Alexandrian vellums,
Like the books of burnt Louvain!

Yet these classics are immortal:
O collectors, have no fear,
For the publisher will issue
New editions every year.

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Christopher Morley