BURNING LEAVES IN SPRING

When withered leaves are lost in flame

Their eddying ghosts, a thin blue haze,

Blow through the thickets whence they came

On amberlucent autumn days.

The cool green woodland heart receives

Their dim, dissolving, phantom breath;

In young hereditary leaves

They see their happy life-in-death.

My minutes perish as they glow —

Time burns my crazy bonfire through;

But ghosts of blackened hours still blow,

Eternal Beauty, back to you!