TO THE MAY-FLY. 57 



True but then (say we) he is only a creature of instinct. 

 Suppose he were endowed with understanding, and a knowledge 

 of his own frail nature ; then perhaps, being aware that his 

 existence was so very brief, he might, on rising perfect from his 

 native streamlet, let himself drop back again and be drowned, 

 because to enjoy life till sun-set would not be "worth his 

 while." Would our May-Ply be, in this case, veritably a 

 creature of reason ? We trow not, or his reason would be, 

 at best, but the reasoning of the day. 



TO THE MAY-FLY. 



Winged reveller of the glowing eve, 

 Born on the sunset beam to weave 



Thy evolutions airy ; 

 One in a maze of living gems, 

 Bright as in fairy diadems, 



Thyself a dancing fairy ! 



Thou and thy little comrades gay 

 Now clustering thick as flowers of May, 



Yon hawthorn bush adorning ; 

 Will, like those blooms (but earlier) shed, 

 Find on the earth a dewy bed, 



Ere next awakes the Morning. 



E 2 



