The Freed Butterfly

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Title:     The Freed Butterfly
Author: T. S. Arthur [More Titles by Arthur]

Yes, go, little butterfly,
Fan the warm air
With your soft silken pinions,
So brilliant and fair;
A poor, fluttering prisoner
No longer you'll be;
There! Out of the window!
You are free--you are free!

Go, rest on the bosom
Of some favorite flower;
Go, sport in the sunlight
Your brief little hour;
For your day, at the longest,
Is scarcely a span:
Then go and enjoy it;
Be gay while you can.

As for me, I have something
More useful to do:
I must work, I must learn--
Though I play sometimes, too.
All your days with the blossoms,
Bright thing, _you_ may spend;
They will close with the summer,
_Mine_ never shall end.

[The end]
T S Arthur's poem: The Freed Butterfly

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