ROSES AND BUTTERFLIES

 ("Roses et Papillons.") 
 
 {XXVII., Dec. 7, 1834.} 


 The grave receives us all: 
 Ye butterflies and roses gay and sweet 
 Why do ye linger, say? 
 Will ye not dwell together as is meet? 
 Somewhere high in the air 
 Would thy wing seek a home 'mid sunny skies, 
 In mead or mossy dell— 
 If there thy odors longest, sweetest rise. 
 
 Have where ye will your dwelling, 
 Or breath or tint whose praise we sing; 
 Butterfly shining bright, 
 Full-blown or bursting rosebud, flow'r or wing. 
 Dwell together ye fair, 
 'Tis a boon to the loveliest given; 
 Perchance ye then may choose your home 
 On the earth or in heaven. 
 
 W.C. WESTBROOK 


 A SIMILE. 
 
 ("Soyez comme l'oiseau.") 
 
 {XXXIII. vi.} 


 Thou art like the bird 
 That alights and sings 
 Though the frail spray bends— 
 For he knows he has wings. 
 
 FANNY KEMBLE (BUTLER) 


 

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