Philip Henry Savage

1868-1899 / the United States

To H.L.S.

I WANDERED on a lonely quest;
And deep within a dark forést
That lightened upward to the sky
A maiden, with her head borne high,
Went lightly by.

A bending shape, a glancing eye,
Long slender limbs borne maidenly,
Bound golden hair, — she trembled lest
She fright the butterfly at rest
On either breast.

So she went on into the west
Beyond the dark-green, dim forést
That fell to blackness — all the sky
Closed down, — when on my lips felt I
A butterfly!
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