 | Sacra Poesis |  |
A DEATH'S-HEAD MOTH.
Emblem of myself, I seeHopes and fears pourtray'd in thee;
For, as Nature's plastic touch
Hath made and mark'd thee, I am such.
“Crush'd before the moth,” and weak,
Thy form and name the mortal speak;
Wing'd, and fluttering through the sky,
I trace my own bright destiny!
Hath Death stamp'd his image there?
In myself his seal I bear:
Yet I see Death wing'd away
Through the clear expanse of day;
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In this wondrous frame I carry
Death and life,—O mystic moth,
Mortal and immortal both!
| Sacra Poesis | |