Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
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Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
 
644. A Chrysalis
 
By Mary Emily Bradley
 
 
MY little Mädchen found one day
A curious something in her play,
That was not fruit, nor flower, nor seed;
It was not anything that grew,
Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew;        5
Had neither legs nor wings, indeed;
And yet she was not sure, she said,
Whether it was alive or dead.
 
She brought it in her tiny hand
To see if I would understand,        10
And wondered when I made reply,
“You’ve found a baby butterfly.”
“A butterfly is not like this,”
With doubtful look she answered me.
So then I told her what would be        15
Some day within the chrysalis;
How, slowly, in the dull brown thing
Now still as death, a spotted wing,
And then another, would unfold,
Till from the empty shell would fly        20
A pretty creature, by and by,
All radiant in blue and gold.
 
“And will it, truly?” questioned she—
Her laughing lips and eager eyes
All in a sparkle of surprise—        25
“And shall your little Mädchen see?”
“She shall!” I said. How could I tell
That ere the worm within its shell
Its gauzy, splendid wings had spread,
My little Mädchen would be dead?        30
 
To-day the butterfly has flown,—
She was not here to see it fly,—
And sorrowing I wonder why
The empty shell is mine alone.
Perhaps the secret lies in this:        35
I too had found a chrysalis,
And Death that robbed me of delight
Was but the radiant creature’s flight!
 

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