354
From Cocoon forth a bu*terfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged — a Summer Afternoon
Repairing Everywhere
Without Design — that I could trace
Except to stray abroad
On Miscellaneous Enterprise
The Clovers — understood
Her pretty Parasol be seen
Contracting in a Field
Where Men made Hay
Then 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 bu*terfly
Extinguished — in the Sea