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ROSES AND BUTTERFLIES by Victor Hugo
     ("Roses et Papillons.")

     {XXVII., Dec. 7, 1834.}
     The grave receives us all:
       Ye butterflies and roses gay and sweet
     Why do ye linger, say?
       Will ye not dwell together as is meet?
     Somewhere high in the air
       Would thy wing seek a home 'mid sunny skies,
     In mead or mossy dell—
       If there thy odors longest, sweetest rise.

     Have where ye will your dwelling,
       Or breath or tint whose praise we sing;
     Butterfly shining bright,
       Full-blown or bursting rosebud, flow'r or wing.
     Dwell together ye fair,
       'Tis a boon to the loveliest given;
     Perchance ye then may choose your home
       On the earth or in heaven.

     W.C. WESTBROOK
     A SIMILE.

     ("Soyez comme l'oiseau.")

     {XXXIII. vi.}
     Thou art like the bird
       That alights and sings
     Though the frail spray bends—
       For he knows he has wings.

     FANNY KEMBLE (BUTLER)

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