a poem
just been flipping through my old victorian books when i came across this poem , and it struck a cord within me
TO A BUTTERFLY .
I've watched you now for a full half - hour
Self-poised upon that yellow flower ;
And little butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!-not fozen seas
More motionless! and then what joy awates you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!
This plot of orchard- ground is ours
My trees they are, my sisters flowers ;
Hear rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
come often to us fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song ;
And summer days when we where young;
Sweet childish days , that we as long
As twenty days are now ,
Wordsworth ,
TO A BUTTERFLY .
I've watched you now for a full half - hour
Self-poised upon that yellow flower ;
And little butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!-not fozen seas
More motionless! and then what joy awates you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!
This plot of orchard- ground is ours
My trees they are, my sisters flowers ;
Hear rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
come often to us fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song ;
And summer days when we where young;
Sweet childish days , that we as long
As twenty days are now ,
Wordsworth ,