Mischievous Joy

Mischievous Joy

AS a butterfly[133]renew’d，

When in life I breath’d my last,

To the spots my flight I wing,

Scenes of heav’nly rapture past,

Over meadows[134]，to the spring，

Round the hill,and through the wood.

Soon a tender pair I spy,

And I look down from my seat

On the beauteous maiden’s head—

When embodied[135]there I meet

All I lost as soon as dead,

Happy as before am I.

Him she clasps with silent smile,

And his mouth the hour improves,

Sent by kindly Deities;

First from breast to mouth it roves[136]，

Then from mouth to hands it flies,

And I round him sport the while.

And she sees me hov’ring near;

Trembling at her lovers rapture,

Up she springs-I fly away,

“Dearest!let’s the insect capture

Come!I long to make my prey

Yonder pretty little dear!”

1767－9.