BUTTERFLIES are white and blue In this field we wander through. Suffer me to take your hand. Death comes in a day or two. All the things we ever knew Will be ashes in that hour, Mark the transient butterfly, How he hangs upon the flower. Suffer me to take your hand. Suffer me to cherish you Till the dawn is in the sky. Whether I be false or true, Death comes in a day or two. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG FOR COLIN by SARA TEASDALE THE LOVER MOURNS FOR THE LOSS OF LOVE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS OLD LEM by STERLING ALLEN BROWN FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT; SONG by ROBERT BURNS WALT WHITMAN'S CAUTION by WALT WHITMAN PHRYGES: JUSTICE PROTECTS THE KING by AESCHYLUS |