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The insect birds that suck nectareous juice
souls of gems,
I have but seen their feathers, that is all.
I may not feel :-I never may behold
The Naturalist of the Supplement to the British Almanack tells me that Crickets rusticate in Summer, and return to their firesides in Winter. I would I knew this for a fact.
Αποσπάσματα φυσικα.-1843. .
WHERE art thou, merry whistler of the hearth ?
I thought thee sleeping in some cranny snug,
If I should see thee in thy summer dress,
The love I have not, but revere no less,
WRITTEN OPPOSITE A DRAWING OF A PARROT AND BUTTERFLY.
BRIGHT creatures are ye, bird and butterfly, The joyous progeny of the breeding sun, Who work'd below, his “ 'prentice hand to try," On topaz, ruby, and carnelian. Then, breathing upwards, first essay'd the rose, Sweet emanation of the soul of earth : Then would the gilded fly its wings disclose, Proud of the beauty of its gorgeous birth. But brightest gems would murmur, if they might, Because for woman, not themselves, they glow. Blest are the insects, brood of warmth and light, Who feel their life, how brief they cannot know; But happier far the bird that can repeat Sweet words, by sweeter lips made doubly sweet.