The Butterfly

Delicate, and drawn and fair,
Wings of jewel-tinged delight,
From the rose and honeyed air,
Dancing midst the summer light.

Thou art the spirit of joy refined,
Loving the world, and longing for peace;
The sun is thine, each flower it finds,
As honey clings to each blossom of fleece.

O’er the wide fields spread,
Unfurling, fragile yet free;
You thrill the tender and sweet with dread,
In every world you can see.

Innocent of grief and care,
Yours is the bliss of a soul undenied;
So dance till the close of day,
In the arms of nature, pure and wide.

• Coventry Patmore