The Butterfly. 



I hold you at last in my hand, 



Exquisite child of the air; 

 Can I ever understand 



How you grew to be so fair? 



You came to this linden tree 



To taste its delicious sweet, 

 I sitting here in the shadow and shine 



Playing around its feet. 



Now I hold you fast in my hand. 



You marvelous butterfly 

 Till you help me to understand 



The eternal mystery. 



From that creeping thing in the dust 



To this shining bliss in the blue! 

 God, give me courage to trust 



I can break my chrysalis too! 



— Alice Freeman Palmer. 



