TO THE BUTTERFLY. CHILD of the sun! pursue thy rapturous flight, -Yet wert thou once a worm, a thing that crept BLUE was the loch, the clouds were gone, Ben-Lomond in his glory shone, When, Luss, I left thee; when the breeze Bore me from thy silver sands, Thy kirk-yard wall among the trees, And looked upon another flood; † * Signifying in the Gaelic language an Isthmus. Night fell; and dark and darker grew That narrow sea, that narrow sky, As o'er the glimmering waves we flew; The shattered fortress, whence the Dane All into midnight-shadow sweep— When day springs upward from the deep!* The prow wakes splendour; and the oar, Glad sign, and sure! for now we hail * A phenomenon described by many navigators. |