Verses On A Butterfly

by Joseph Warton

Fair Child of Sun and Summer! we behold

With eager eyes thy wings bedropp'd with gold;

The purple spots that o'er thy mantle spread,

The sapphire's lively blue, the ruby's red,

Ten thousand various blended tints surprise,

Beyond the rainbow's hues or peacock's eyes:

Not Judah's king in eastern pomp array'd,

Whose charms allur'd from far the Sheban maid,

High on his glitt'ring throne, like you could shine

(Nature's completest miniature divine):

For thee the rose her balmy buds renews,

And silver lilies fill their cups with dews;

Flora for thee the laughing fields perfumes,

For thee Pomona sheds her choicest blooms,

Soft Zephyr wafts thee on his gentlest gales

O'er Hackwood's sunny hill and verdant vales;

For thee, gay queen of insects! do we rove

From walk to walk, from beauteous grove to grove;

And let the critics know, whose pedant pride

And awkward jests our sprightly sport deride:

That all who honours, fame, or wealth pursue,

Change but the name of things--they hunt for you.