With the rose the butterfly's deep in love,
A thousand times hovering round;
But round himself, all read more

With the rose the butterfly's deep in love,
A thousand times hovering round;
But round himself, all tender like gold,
The sun's sweet ray is hovering found.

I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet.

I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet.

Far out at sea,--the sun was high,
While veer'd the wind and flapped the sail,
We saw read more

Far out at sea,--the sun was high,
While veer'd the wind and flapped the sail,
We saw a snow-white butterfly
Dancing before the fitful gale,
Far out at sea.

And many an ante-natal tomb
When butterflies dream of the life to come.

And many an ante-natal tomb
When butterflies dream of the life to come.

The gold-barr'd butterflies to and from
And over the waterside wander'd and wove
As heedless and idle read more

The gold-barr'd butterflies to and from
And over the waterside wander'd and wove
As heedless and idle as clouds that rove
And drift by the peaks of perpetual snow.
- Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller),

Gray sail against the sky,
Gray butterfly!
Have you a dream for going.
Or read more

Gray sail against the sky,
Gray butterfly!
Have you a dream for going.
Or are you the blind wind's blowing?