A Reed by the River/A Butterfly
A BUTTERFLY
Baffled by wind and beaten by the sea,
Drenched wings, dim record of a radiant hour,
Wrought of the light, the dew, the waving flower,
Thy mellow, sun-swept spaces made thee free;
But beckoned by a wave of amethyst,
When sunset's rose lay shaken on the shore,
Its petals' fiery opaline blown o'er
The soft-lipped sands, which they had warmly kissed,
Thou—born of frailer blossom's fleeting breath,
Taught of the sun to soar unto the steep,—
Didst flutter to the beauty of the deep,
And feed upon the white foam-flowers of death;
No more for thee fair lesser fields lie ripe,—
Alas, the heart, thy human prototype!
Drenched wings, dim record of a radiant hour,
Wrought of the light, the dew, the waving flower,
Thy mellow, sun-swept spaces made thee free;
But beckoned by a wave of amethyst,
When sunset's rose lay shaken on the shore,
Its petals' fiery opaline blown o'er
The soft-lipped sands, which they had warmly kissed,
Thou—born of frailer blossom's fleeting breath,
Taught of the sun to soar unto the steep,—
Didst flutter to the beauty of the deep,
And feed upon the white foam-flowers of death;
No more for thee fair lesser fields lie ripe,—
Alas, the heart, thy human prototype!