Of bubbles.—Or, that butterfly didst mark
On yon hag-taper, towering by the way,
A witch's yellow torch?—Or didst, like me,
Watch, drifting by, these curled, brown bits of bark?
IV
Or con the slender gold of this dim, still
Unmoving minnow 'neath these twisted roots,
Thrust o'er the smoky topaz of this rill?—
Or, in this sunlight, did those insect flutes,