Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsTo A Butterfly In My Chamber
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
To A Butterfly In My Chamber Post by :binary Category :Poems Author :Sarah S. Mower Date :November 2011 Read :2346

Click below to download : To A Butterfly In My Chamber (Format : PDF)

To A Butterfly In My Chamber

Whence art thou, frail, wand'ring stranger,
Softly flitting round my bed?
Is thy life exposed to danger?
Are thy friends and kindred dead?

Does the cold rude breath of autumn,
Chill thy little fragile form?
Hast thou come to seek a shelter
From the dreaded gath'ring storm?

Art thou now our friendship trying?
Wouldst thou test the vows we made,
When thou was so gaily flying
'Round us, 'neath the fragrant shade?

Or, wouldst thou our hearts be cheering,
Through this pensive lonely eve,
While the chilly winds are bearing
On their wings the faded leaf?

Would thou wast the Father's token,
That the sweet celestial dove,
When the golden bowl is broken,
Will support us by his love,--

Will, in that dread painful conflict,
Flit around our dying bed,
And, to fill the soul with comfort,
Whisper, "blessed are the dead."

(The end)
Sarah S. Mower's poem: To A Butterfly In My Chamber

If you like this book please share to your friends :

To The 'wild Flower' To The "wild Flower"

To The 'wild Flower'
To the "wild Flower."(1)I've ranged the bright streamlet in childhood's blest hour, And culled from its borders spring's loveliest flowers, Then bound up my bouquet, all glitt'ring with dew, And smiled on my treasure as homeward I flew. I've seen the sweet violet deck the green sod, All fresh from the hand of a bountiful God, While soft whisp'ring zephyrs breathed this in my ear, "The wisdom of God in these blossoms appear." I've looked on the mayflower, spring's earliest child,-- It peeped

The Invalid's Dream The Invalid's Dream

The Invalid's Dream
The sick girl sat with downcast eye, Her bosom heaved the deep drawn sigh, She felt that all complaint was vain, For health would ne'er return again. With pain and weariness oppressed, She sought her pillow, there to rest, While sleep a welcome visit paid, Bright scenes were to her view displayed. In fancy's magic glass, she sees Her cheek, long faded by disease, The rose of health blooms there again, 'Tis no deceitful hectic stain. Lightly