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.
Burning Leaves, November
Christopher Morley
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Poem topics: fear, spring, frost, destroy, year, issue, april, april fools, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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