272 Metamorphoses of Insects, 



"When bursting forth to life and light, 

 The offspring of enraptured May, 



The Butterfly, on pinions bright, 

 Launch'd in full splendour on the day. 



TJnconscious of a mother's care, 

 No infant wretchedness she knew ; 



But as she felt the vernal air, 

 At once to full perfection grew. 



Her slender form, ethereal light. 

 Her velvet-textured wings unfold ; 



"With all the rainbow's colours bright. 

 And dropt with spots of burnish'd gold. 



Trembling with joy awhile she stood, 

 And felt the sun's enlivening ray ; 



Drank from the skies the vital flood. 

 And wondered at her plumage gay ! 



And balanced oft her broidered wings. 

 Through fields of air prepared to siiil: 



Then on her vent'rous journey springs, 

 And floats along the rising gale. 



Go, child of pleasure, range the fields. 

 Taste all the joys that spring can give, 



Partake what bounteous summer yields, 

 And live whilst vet, tis time to live. 



Go sip the rose's fragrant dew. 

 The lily's honeyed cup explore. 



From flower to flower the search renew, 

 And rifle all the woodbine's store : 



And let me trace thy vagrant flight, 

 Thy moments too of short repose, 



And mark thee then with fre?h delight 

 Thy golden pinions ope and close. 



But hark I whilst thus I musing stand 

 Pours on the gale an airy note. 



And breathing from a viewless band, 

 Soft silvery tones around me float ! 



— They cease — but still a voice I hear, 

 A wisper'd voice of hope and joy, 



" Thy hour of rest approaches near, 

 " Prepare thee, mortal ! — thou must die 



