Far out at sea,--the sun was high, While veer'd the wind and flapped the sail, We saw a snow-white butterfly Dancing before the fitful gale, Far out at sea.

On me, on me Time and change can heap no more! The painful past with blighting grief Hath left my heart a withered leaf. Time and change can do no more.

Ye rigid Ploughman! bear in mind Your labor is for future hours. Advance! spare not! nor look behind! Plough deep and straight with all your powers!

Much converse do I find in thee, Historian of my infancy! Float near me; do not yet depart! Dead times revive in thee: Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart.

And many an ante-natal tomb When butterflies dream of the life to come.

The gold-barr'd butterflies to and from And over the waterside wander'd and wove As heedless and idle as clouds that rove And drift by the peaks of perpetual snow. - Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller),