The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||
347
TO THE BUTTERFLY.
Sweet child of summer, who from flow'r to flow'r,
To sip each odour, sport'st on silken wing;
I greet thy presence 'mid the golden hour,
Whilst with the birds the vales of Serdi ring.
To sip each odour, sport'st on silken wing;
I greet thy presence 'mid the golden hour,
Whilst with the birds the vales of Serdi ring.
I see thee perching on each rose's bloom;
From fragrance thus to fragrance wont to glide;
Now from the tender vi'let waft perfume;
Now fix'd upon the lily's snowy pride.
From fragrance thus to fragrance wont to glide;
Now from the tender vi'let waft perfume;
Now fix'd upon the lily's snowy pride.
Though blest art thou—my bliss is greater still;
I kiss the bosom of the brightest fair!
The charms of Adel all my senses fill;
And whilst those charms I press, her love I share.
I kiss the bosom of the brightest fair!
The charms of Adel all my senses fill;
And whilst those charms I press, her love I share.
But thou a mutual passion canst not know;
No fond endearments can return to thee—
Whilst I, belov'd, with constant rapture glow—
Sweet child of summer, come and envy me.
No fond endearments can return to thee—
Whilst I, belov'd, with constant rapture glow—
Sweet child of summer, come and envy me.
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||