"Butterflies", Siegfried Sassoon, 1920.

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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I thought I'd share this heavenly piece with you.
I love it.