To An Intrusive Butterfly.

"Kill not--for Pity's sake--and lest ye slay     The meanest thing upon its upward way."     Five Rules of Buddha.     I watch you through the garden walks,     I watch you float between     The avenues of dahlia stalks,     And flicker on the green;     You hover round the garden seat,     You mount, you waver. Why,--     Why storm us in our still retreat,     O saffron Butterfly!     Across the room in loops of flight     I watch you wayward go;     Dance down a shaft of glancing light,     Review my books a-row;     Before the bust you flaunt and flit     Of "blind Monides"--     Ah, trifler, on his lips there lit     Not butterflies, but bees!     You pause, you poise, you circle up     Among my old Japan;     You find a comrade on a cup,     A friend upon a fan;     You wind anon, a breathing-while,     Around AMANDA'S brow;--     Dost dream her then, O Volatile!     E'en such an one as thou?     Away! Her thoughts are not as thine.     A sterner purpose fills     Her steadfast soul with deep design     Of baby bows and frills;     What care hath she for worlds without,     What heed for yellow sun,     Whose endless hopes revolve about     A planet, tat One!     Away! Tempt not the best of wives;     Let not thy garish wing     Come fluttering our Autumn lives     With truant dreams of Spring!     Away! Re-seek thy "Flowery Land;"     Be Buddha's law obeyed;     Lest Betty's undiscerning hand     Should slay ... a future PRAED!