Two butterflies in crazed random movement –
So swift, the eye could snatch of them but glimpses,
As flashes of light of brightest hue
Followed the one the other with butterfly’s ease
Of reflexed energy;
Easier even than the swift reflexes of the human eye,
For both were lost to me within the moment;
Hither- thither things on gossamer wings
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Or spirits, in the gold that autumn brings?