Where flowrets hung reflected o’er the brook,
A harmless Butterfly my path beset;
Itself a flying flower, and pinions shook,
Of starry gold, and azure edged with jet.
Abrupt I caught it, and a pinion tore.
The mangled thing into a lily fell;
Nof all my nurture could its soul restore,
Nor all the dewy odours of the bell.
It died within the flower it loved so well.
Thus nymphs, untreasured of fair virtue, lie
Forlorn amid their native vales, and die.
(Eaton Stannard Barrett)
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Based on Topics: Fairness Poems, Flowers Poems, Gold Poems, Vice & Virtue Poems, Flying Poems, Nurture PoemsBased on Keywords: flowrets