Five Songs

If I were thou, O butterfly,
And poised my purple wing to spy
The sweetest flowers that live and die,

I would not waste my strength on those,
As thou,—for summer has a close,
And pansies bloom not in the snows.

If I were thou, O working bee,
And all that honey-gold I see,
Could delve from roses easily,

I would not hive it at man's door,
As thou,—that heirdom of my store
Should make him rich and leave me poor.

If I were thou, O eagle proud,
And screamed the thunder back aloud,
And faced the lightning from the cloud,

I would not build my eyrie throne,
As thou,—upon a crumbling stone
Which the next storm may trample down.

If I were thou, O gallant steed ,
With pawing hoof and dancing head,
And eye outrunning thine own speed,

I would not meeken to the rein,
As thou,—nor smooth my nostril plain
From the glad desert's snort and strain.

If I were thou, red-breasted bird,
With song at shut-up window heard,
Like Love's sweet yes too long deferred,

I would not overstay delight,
As thou,—but take a swallow-flight
Till the new spring returned to sight.

While yet I spake, a touch was laid
Upon my brow, whose pride did fade
As thus, methought, an angel said,—

"If I were thou who sing'st this song,
Most wise for others, and most strong
In seeing right while doing wrong,

"I would not waste my cares, and choose,
As thou,—to seek what thou must lose,
Such gains as perish in the use.

"I would not work where none can win,
As thou,—halfway 'twixt grief and sin,
But look above and judge within.

"I would not let my pulse beat high,
As thou,—towards fame's regality,
Nor yet in love's great jeopardy.

"I would not champ the hard cold bit,
As thou,—of what the world thinks fit,
But take God's freedom, using it.

“I would not play earth's winter out,
As thou,—but gird my soul about,
And live for life past death and doubt.

"Then sing, O singer !—but allow,
Beast, fly and bird, called foolish now
Are wise (for all they scorn) as thou."