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, When, Luss, I left thee; when the breeze Thy kirk-yard wall among the trees, And, thy shady region passed, * Signifying in the Gaelic language an Isthmus. Night fell; and dark and darker grew Advancing as in haste to meet; 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 Oh blest retreat, and sacred too! And crosses decked thy summits blue. * A phenomenon described by many navigators. |