Escaped thy place of wintry rest, And in the brightest colours drest, Thy new-born wings prepared for flight, Ah! do not, Butterfly, in vain Thus flutter on the crystal pane, But go! and soar to life and light. High on the buoyant Summer gale Thro' cloudless ether thou may'st sail, Or rest among the fairest flowers; To meet thy winnowing friends may'st speed, Or at thy choice luxurious feed In woodlands wild, or garden bowers. Beneath some leaf of ample shade Thy pearly eggs shall then be laid, Small rudiments of many a fly; While thou, thy frail existence past, Shall shudder in the chilly blast, And fold thy painted wings and die! Soon fleets thy transient life away; Yet short as is thy vital day, Like flowers that form thy fragrant food; Thou, poor Ephemeron, shalt have fill'd The little space thy Maker willed, And all thou know'st of life be good. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTELLECT by RALPH WALDO EMERSON DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT: NASCENT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE IN THE GOLD ROOM by OSCAR WILDE MISPLACED SYMPATHY by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS THE IDEAL by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA |