Charles Warren Stoddard

"UPON the woven leaf, Upon the veined flower, I find my life portrayed in bief– My life from hour to hour. A frail leaf fit to die; The faithful air of heaven by, While no wind roughly blew. All day for my delight, From dark to dark my own; One butterfly delaying flight, That left me not alone. A humming-bird to float Upon a breath; a bee To blow a long complaining note, Invited were of me."