From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged - a Summer Afternoon - 
Repairing Everywhere -

Without Design - that I could trace
Except to stray abroad
On Miscellaneous Enterprise
The Clovers - understood -

Her pretty Parasol was seen
Contracting in a Field
Where Men made Hay -
Then struggling hard
With an opposing Cloud -

Where Parties - Phantom as Herself -
To Nowhere - seemed to go
In purposeless Circumference,
As 'twere a Tropic Show.

And notwithstanding Bee - that worked -
And Flower - that zealous blew,
This Audience of idleness
Disdained them, from the Sky -

Till Sundown crept - a steady Tide -
And Men that made the Hay -
And Afternoon - and Butterfly -
Extinguished - in the Sea.