The Poetry Corner

To A Butterfly

By William Wordsworth

Stay near me, do not take thy flight! A little longer stay in sight! Much converse do I find I thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart, My father's family! Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time, when, in our childish plays, My sister Emmeline and I Together chased the butterfly! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey: with leaps and spring I followed on from brake to bush; But she, God love her, feared to brush The dust from off its wings.