Poems (Gould, 1833)/The Empaled Butterfly
THE EMPALED BUTTERFLY.
"Ho!" said a butterfly, "here am I,Up in the air, who used to lieFlat on the ground, for the passers by To treat with utter neglect!None will suspect that I am the sameWith a bright, new coat, and a different name;The piece of nothingness whence I came, In me they 'll never detect.
"That horrible night of the chrysalis,That brought me at length to a day like this,In the form of beauty—a state of bliss, Was little enough to giveFor freedom to range from bower to bower,To flirt with the buds and flatter the flower,And shine in the sunbeams hour by hour, The envy of all that live.
"This is a world of curious things,Where those who crawl and those that have wingsAre ranked in the classes of beggars and kings; No matter how much the worthMay be on the side of those who creep,Where the vain, the light, and the bold will sweepOthers from notice, and proudly keep Uppermost on the earth!
"Many a one that has loathed the sightOf the piteous worm, will take delightIn welcoming me, as I look so bright In my new and beautiful dress.But some I shall pass with a scornful glance,Some with elegant nonchalance,And others will woo me, till I advance To give them a slight caress."
"Ha!" said the pin, "you are just the oneThrough which I >'m commissioned, at once, to runFrom back to breast, till, your fluttering done, Your form may be fairly shown.And when my point shall have reached your heart,'T will be like a balm to the wounded part,To think how you will be copied by art, And your beauty will all be known!"