“Sometimes I let a sunbeam slip 
To light her shaded eye; 
A second fluttered round her lip 
Like a golden butterfly.” 
“Through the sunny summer sky, 
Came a sailing butterfly. 
Dancing through the sweet sunshine, 
Glad with clover’s ruddy wine! 
Stopping just to gaily sip 
The wild pansy’s purple lip, 
Or to softly swing and rest 
On an apple-blossom’s breast, 
Or to steal the fluffy gold 
That the buttercups do hold, 
Or to watch the blossoming grass 
Ripple, when the light winds pass ! 
TENNYSON. 
But still sailing on and on, 
Till she found the sunshine gone; 
Frightened then by fading light, 
And the softly gathering night, 
She would chase the flying day, 
So she stops to ask the way— 
Lights upon a swinging nest: 
‘Right or left ? which way is West?’ 
And a young bird answers low,— 
‘On towards the summer’s glow!’ 
* * * * * * 
So she fluttered from the nest, 
Seeking still the yellow West!” 
MArGARET DELAND. 
‘A flight of yellow butterflies, 
In slow and airy quiver, 
Winged downwards.”’ 
Harriet Eneanor Kina. 
