As I sat by my baby's bed
That's open to the sky,
There fluttered round and round my head
A radiant butterfly.
And as I wept--of hearts that ache
The saddest in the land--
It left a lily for my sake,
And lighted on my hand.
I watched it, oh, so quietly,
And though it rose and flew,
As if it fain would comfort me
It came and came anew.
Now, where my darling lies at rest,
I do not dare to sigh,
For look! there gleams upon my breast
A snow-white butterfly.
My friends will have other children, and if some day they should read
this piece of verse, perhaps they will think of the city lad who used to
sit under the old fig-tree in the garden and watch the lizards sun
themselves on the time-worn wall.