University of Virginia Library


162

The Mythologist and Psyche

O butterfly of fable, flown
From what strange chrysalis unknown
Across the empires overthrown.
Thou flittest with thy fairy wings
Above the strifes of creeds and kings,
Above the wrecks of mortal things.
Thou in thine air of endless peace
Hast seen the nations rise and cease,
Egypt and India, Rome and Greece,
And now hast come within the scope
Of those that peep, and pry, and grope:
Thou art beneath the microscope!
Art fixed within a little room
That looks on London's glare and gloom:
Yet science cannot smirch thy bloom.
But thou wilt spread thy wings on high,
A floating flower 'twixt earth and sky—
No man may break this butterfly!