Into the garden's sun and scent
I steal from a darkened room;
I see a butterfly alight and sip
From the cup of a rosy bloom.
The beauty of its wings of white
And markings of faintest gray,
Brings to my burdened heart a sense
Of beauty and harmony.
As it flutters into the sunshine gay,
A dainty sprite it seems;
Freer than other mortal thing
From the weight of earthy dreams.
Yet it crept a little while ago
Laboriously on the ground;
In a closely woven cell it slept,
A prisoner, self-bound.
This chrysalis state is the darkened thought
Which binds us prisoners of pain,
But the knowledge of God is the garden fair
Where we spread our wings again.
