Compendium Poetica

A drop of heaven’s treasure, on an angel’s wing,

Such heaven alone can bring;—

The painted hues upon the rose,

In heaven’s shower reposing,

Is an earthly treasure of such measure.

The butterfly, in his spell,

Upon the rosy prism doth dwell,

And as he doth fly, in his tour

From flower to flower,

Is seen for a while

Every care to beguile,

And so doth wing his little way,

A little fairy of the day!