Its tender corolla in shred after shred
She hastily stripped; then she snapped off its head.
A delicate ruin, on earth as it lay,
That bright little fury went, humming, away,
With gossamer softness, and fair to the eye,
Like some living brilliant, just dropped from the sky.
And since, when that curious bird I behold
Arrayed in rich colors, and dusted with gold,
I cannot but think of the wrath and the spite
She has in reserve, though they're now out of sight.