From Cocoon forth a Butterfly

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 Butterfly —

Extinguished — in the Sea —