Page:Poems Piatt.djvu/191

Ever so many times—and you could show
Me where they sleep. I wish that I could go."

"It is too far. And here are butterflies;
 Look—one—two—three. Go, catch them if you will."
"I've seen all these too much—they hurt my eyes!
 They 're naughty things—they never can be still!
I would not try to catch another one
Here, in the yard, to save its life! I'd run
 After some pretty new ones on the hill
Away off—almost to the skies! And, oh!
I'd be so sweet. I wish that I could go."

Nor was it only toward the clear white light,
 Led subtly on by many a violet,
She would have followed me. The great fierce Night
 Might lie beside our cottage, black and wet,
And make mad hungry noises. Still, if I
Thought fit to pass it, her appealing cry
 (The same that haunts me, sorrowfully, yet)
Was with me always—most forlorn and slow:
"If it is dark, I wish that I could go."