To a Butterfly at Sea

Where away, now? Where away? 
    On your wings of blue and gold, 
    Creature beautiful and bold,
Far along the trackless bay,
    Flying as if all the air
    Were your path to everywhere?

Butterfly, ah, butterfly !
    Can you home for any rest
    Ere the sun slips down the west,
And the stars wink in the sky ? —
    Heaven above, and sea below,
    You must go, and go, and go.

Sailor of the upper blue,
    If these waves were grassy plumes,
    And these white-caps daisy-blooms,
    I should have no fear for you;
        But alas ! your little feet
        Not a grass-blade here may meet.

‘Tis not here the lily springs;
    Here no bright verbena grows, 
    And no wild-bee hunts the rose.