From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged – a Summer Afternoon –
Repairing Everywhere-
Without Design – that I could trace
Except to stay abroad
On Miscellaneous Enterprise
The Clovers – understood –
Her pretty Parasol be seen
Contracting in a Field
Where Men made Hay –
The struggling hard
With an opposing Cloud –
Where Parties – Phantom as Herself –
To Nowhere – seemed to go
In purposeless Circumference –
As ’twere a Tropic Show –
And notwithstanding Bee – that worked –
And Flower – that zealous blew –
This Audience of Idleness
Disdained them, from the Sky –
Till Sundown crept – a steady Tide –
And Men that made the Hay –
And Afternoon – and Butterfly –
Extinguished – in the Sea –
The Bard on the Hill 