14 Jul 2007

Saturday's poem

To A Butterfly

STAY near me---

do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find I thee,
Historian of my infancy !
Float near me;
do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,
My father's family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the butterfly!
A very hunter did I rushUpon the prey:---
with leaps and spring
I followed on from brake to bush;
But she, God love her,
feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

William Wordsworth

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