Sings the Scythe to the flowers and grass?

_Hush, ah hush_, the Scythes are saying,
_Hush, and heed not, and fall asleep;
Hush_, they say to the grasses swaying;
_Hush_, they sing to the clover deep!
_Hush_--'tis the lullaby Time is singing--
_Hush, and heed not, for all things pass;_
_Hush, ah hush! and the Scythes are swinging_
Over the clover, over the grass!

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ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE
ENGLAND, 1837-

WHITE BUTTERFLIES

Fly, white butterflies, out to sea,
Frail, pale wings for the wind to try,
Small white wings that we scarce can see,
Fly!

Some fly light as a laugh of glee,
Some fly soft as a long, low sigh;
All to the haven where each would be,
Fly!

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