A Psyche of Spring

Thou gaily painted butterfly, exquisite thing, A child of light and blending rainbow hues, In loveliness a Psyche of the Spring, Companion for the rose and diamond dews; 'Tis thine, in sportive joy, from hour to hour, To ride the breeze from flower to flower. But thou wast once a worm of hueless dye. Now, seeing thee, gay thing, afloat in bliss, I take new hope in thoughts of bye and bye, When I, as thou, have shed my chrysalis. I dream now of eternal springs of light In which, as thou, I too may have my flight.