Opus 1742

Phillip A. Ellis

Butterflies, O ye that pass
   from bloom to bloom, and forever past
deserts of fallow grass,

bring me sunshine distilled from sweet
   nectars, and though life be fleet,
rest a moment, and defy defeat.

Friends, I tarry but a while,
   and I hope I leave a smile
to last a short, but a moment's, while.

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