With the rose the butterflys deep in love, A thousand times hovering round; But round himself, all tender like gold, The suns sweet ray is hovering found. HeineBook of Songs. New Spring. No. 7.
Far out at sea,the sun was high, While veerd the wind and flapped the sail, We saw a snow-white butterfly Dancing before the fitful gale, Far out at sea. Richard Hengist HorneGenius.
The gold-barrd butterflies to and fro And over the waterside wanderd and wove As heedless and idle as clouds that rove And drift by the peaks of perpetual snow. Joaquin MillerSongs of the Sun-Lands. Isles of the Amazons. Pt. III. St. 41.
Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bringst, gay creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart. WordsworthTo a Butterfly.