From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged - a Summer Afternoon -
Repairing Everywhere -
Without Design - that I could trace
Except to stray abroad
On Miscellaneous Enterprise
The Clovers - understood -

Her pretty Parasol be seen
Contracting in a Field
Where Men made Hay -
Then struggling hard
With an opposing Cloud -

Where Parties - Phantom as Herself -
To Nowhere - seemed to go
In purposeless Circumference -
As 'twere a Tropic Show -

And notwithstanding Bee - that worked -
And Flower - that zealous blew -
This Audience of Idleness
Disdained them, from the Sky -

Till Sundown crept - a steady Tide -
And Men that made the Hay -
And Afternoon - and Butterfly -
Extinguished - in the Sea.

Emily Dickinson

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