She flies from my shadow, To her lover, the Sun; Yet for her rare beauty, I still follow on. Her wings tipped with silver, Jet-black, and of gold, She flies to her lover, From a shadow that's cold. Stay, Butterfly, stay, My Love's full of laughter: Why fly from a shadow? She still follows after! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE TWO MYSTERIES by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE SOMETHING BEYOND by MARY CLEMMER AMES HUDSON SNEEZING by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 14. TO THE HON. CHARLES TOWNSHEND - FROM THE COUNTRY by MARK AKENSIDE TWILIT HARMONY by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE CORDWRIGHT'S SONG by AUGUSTE DE BELLOY |