TO A BUTTERFLY IN A CROWDED STREET. 381 
Tinted silks, like Autumn trees, 
Waving brightly in the breeze? 
Plume and wreath of varied dyes, 
Rich as sunset’s glowing skies? 
Ruby, pearl, and emerald green 
Basking in the diamond’s sheen ? 
These are but my liveried pride, 
Tints and tinsel magnified ; 
And where gaud and glare abound, 
May not nature’s belle be found ? 
Mark again the motley throng 
By thy side that sweeps along, 
With so gay and smiling guise 
One might gaze with wondering eyes, 
For some sphered Elysium near, 
Whence such shapes had lighted hero: 
Born when fortune’s starry cope 
Cast its brightest horoscope, 
Heirs of leisure, wealth, and will, 
& / / / 
How should they their end fulfil, 
But by idlesse, fancy, show, 
As we rural minions do ? 
Whom they sometimes deign to visit, 
And both rhyme and reason is it, 
That we too should not contemn 
In our turn to visit them, 
Nor ourselves unwelcome see 
Where our kith and kindred be I 
