X. THE REDBREAST AND THE BUTTERFLY. ART thou the Bird whom Man loves best, The Bird that comes about our doors And Russia far inland? The Bird, whom by some name or other If the Butterfly knew but his friend, * See Paradise Lost, Book XI., where Adam points out to Eve the ominous sign of the Eagle chasing "two Birds of gayest plume,” and the gentle Hart and Hind pursued by their enemy. And find his way to me Under the branches of the tree: In and out, he darts about; Can this be the Bird, to man so good, That, after their bewildering, Did cover with leaves the little children, So painfully in the wood? What ailed thee, Robin, that thou could'st pursue A beautiful Creature, That is gentle by nature? Beneath the summer sky From flower to flower let him fly; 'Tis all that he wishes to do. The Cheerer Thou of our in-door sadness, What hinders, then, that ye should be XI. TO THE DAISY. WITH little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Thou unassuming Common-place Oft on the dappled turf at ease Loose types of Things through all degrees, And many a fond and idle name I give to thee, for praise or blame, As is the humour of the game, A Nun demure, of lowly port; Or sprightly Maiden, of Love's Court, Of all temptations; A Queen in crown of rubies drest ; A Starveling in a scanty vest; Are all, as seem to suit thee best, A little Cyclops, with one eye That thought comes next -and instantly The freak is over, The shape will vanish, and behold; That spreads itself, some Faery bold I see thee glittering from afar; In heaven above thee! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest; May peace come never to his nest, Who shall reprove thee! Sweet Flower! for by that name at last, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, That breath'st with me in sun and air, |