‘Now is the time for the burning of the leaves’  34481

  • Poem
  • from The Burning of the Leaves (number 1)
  • by
  • first line (public domain):
    Now is the time for the burning of the leaves.
    They go to the fire; the nostril pricks with smoke
    Wandering slowly into a weeping mist.
    Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves!
    A flame seizes the smouldering ruin and bites
    On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist.
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Locations in Harold's Library

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