AS a butterfly 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, 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 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,

 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!"