Poems (Sharpless)/The Argynnis Cybele Butterfly
THE ARGYNNIS CYBELE BUTTERFLY
She has such lovely velvet wings!
Soft plumes of richest brown,
With dainty golden pencilings
That glitter in her flutterings
Like flame a gust hath blown.
Soft plumes of richest brown,
With dainty golden pencilings
That glitter in her flutterings
Like flame a gust hath blown.
She poises on a clover bloom,
The upright wings are seen;
Pure silver stars the shades illume;
This perfect beauty is,—for whom?
What can it mean?
The upright wings are seen;
Pure silver stars the shades illume;
This perfect beauty is,—for whom?
What can it mean?
Do flowers, and winds and streams have eyes,
That this fair thing should be?
These tender lines, these sumptuous dyes?
Of Beauty's conquering witcheries
What need hath she?
That this fair thing should be?
These tender lines, these sumptuous dyes?
Of Beauty's conquering witcheries
What need hath she?
Could I but grasp the haunting hints
That come, and quickly go,
Like the gleaming of her argent tints,
Life's secret, with its deep intents,
I should surely know.
That come, and quickly go,
Like the gleaming of her argent tints,
Life's secret, with its deep intents,
I should surely know.
But, is it strange a thing that is
A winged thought of God,
Should come in beauty like to this?
Or from a treasury like His,
Perfection be bestowed?
A winged thought of God,
Should come in beauty like to this?
Or from a treasury like His,
Perfection be bestowed?