The Ephemera

Creatures of gauze and velvet wings, With life for one brief day, Dancing and flitting where the breezes fling The sweets of blooming May;

Skimming the stream where the wild thyme grows, You dart with keen delight. Only to die when the sweet wild rose Gives perfume to the night.

Weary at last, when the day is done, Of the breeze and clover's breath. Folding your delicate wings with the sun, You gently drop to death;

Glimmering wings and a few short hours Were yours in sweet delight. Living for a day in the world of flowers. And then — everlasting night.

Creatures of gauze and velvet wings, With a day of gleams and flowers, Who knows — in the light of eternal things — Your life is less than ours?

Weary at last, it is ours, like you, When our brief day is done. Folding our hands, to say adieu. And pass with the setting sun.