Butterflies

At sixteen years she knew no care;

How could she, sweet and pure as light?

And there pursued her ev'rywhere

Butterflies, butterflies all white.

A lover looked—she dropped her eyes,

That glowed like pansies wet with dew,

And lo! there came from out the skies

Butterflies, butterflies all blue.

Before she guessed, her heart was gone;

The tale of love was swiftly told,

And all about her wheeled and shone

Butterflies of gold.

Then he forsook her one sad morn;

She wept and sobbed, “Oh love, come back!”

There only came to her forlorn,

Butterflies, butterflies all black.