All in the sunlit morning on the hill
Where buttercups and tasseled grasses grew,
I saw a fluttering thing, a-dance, then still,
A little lightning butterfly of blue.
With tiny wings outspread to catch the breeze,
It seemed in dreaminess to idly float
Adrift upon the sunny, airy seas
Like some small, aimless, blue-sailed pleasure boat.
With careless course, no whither and no where,
A stop at some fair floweret port, or stay
At daisy islands rising in the air,
It dallied lingeringly the hours away.