712 KANSAS CITY REVIEW OF SCIENCE. 



The summer came — the lovely month of June — 

 When midnight choirs sing carols to the moon — 

 When stillest hours are at the sultry noon, 



And shade is in demand; 

 Still nothing came aforth the sombre shell 

 Wherein I'd thought some being slumbered well; 

 But still I hoped the hope I could not quell — 



To see the bursting grand. 



I hoped to see it ope' its winding sheet 

 Wherein its rest had been so long and sweet, 

 And coming forth from that drear, lone retreat 



To light of open day, 

 To quit the frame it once had suffered in 

 And take a form my pleased gaze to win, 

 Then spread its wings of gorgeous hues and thin 



And lightly soar away. 



But all in vain. One day I went abroad, 

 Knew other scenes and other pathways trod. 

 Looked on the sun and saw the dripping cloud 



Regladden all the earth ; 

 Then when again to my accustomed place 

 I came and met with many a smiling face, 

 I also found my long beguarded case 



Had given beauteous birth. 



The silken tomb was rent and empty found, 

 No winding sheet now wrapt the pupa round; 

 The cofiEned form had felt its spirits bound 



And burst its prison shroud ; 

 I found at hand a large and splendid moth,* 

 Akin to that which weaves our finest cloth. 

 Whose wings were broad, nor made for moping sloth 



But wanderings far and proud. 



'Twas able now to wing the realms of air 



Where skies were bright and landscapes broad and fair, 



To gather sweets from blossoms fresh and rare, 



And hither fly and yon ; 

 Its home could be the airy fields of space, 

 Nor was it bound to any scene or place. 

 But, borne by wings as delicate as lace. 



Could flit it on and on. 



* Polyphemus, or American Silk- Worm Moth. 



