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Siegfried Sassoon - Butterflies
Work rating: Medium

Frail Travellers, deftly flickering over the flowers;   
O living flowers against the heedless blue   
Of summer days, what sends them dancing through   
This fiery-blossom’d revel of the hours?   
   
Theirs are the musing silences between
The enraptured crying of shrill birds that make   
Heaven in the wood while summer dawns awake;   
And theirs the faintest winds that hush the green.   
   
And they are as my soul that wings its way   
Out of the starlit dimness into morn:
And they are as my tremulous being—born   
To know but this, the phantom glare of day.
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