ODE TO A BUTTERFLY 381 
Birds have their nests; they rear their eager 
young, 
And flit on errands all the livelong day ; 
Each field-mouse keeps the homestead whence 
it sprung; 
But thou art Nature’s freeman, — free to stray 
Unfettered through the wood 
Seeking thine airy food, 
The sweetness spiced on every blossomed spray. 
The garden one wide banquet spreads for thee, 
O daintiest reveller of the joyous earth ! 
One drop of honey gives satiety : 
A second draught would drug thee past all 
mirth. 
Thy feast no orgy shows ; 
Thy calm eyes never close, 
Thou soberest sprite to which the sun gives 
birth. 
And yet the soul of man upon thy wings 
Forever soars in aspiration ; thou 
His emblem of the new career that springs 
When death’s arrest bids all his spirit bow. 
He seeks his hope in thee 
Of immortality. 
Symbol of life, me with such faith endow! 
