. . .But none will suspect that I am the same;
With a bright, new coat, and a different name;
The piece of nothingness whence I came
In me they'll never detect.

"That horrible night in the chrysalis,
Which brought me at length to a day like this,
In a form of beauty—a state of bliss,
Was little enough to give
For freedom to range from bower to bower,
To flirt with the buds, and flatter the flower,
And bask in the sunbeams hour by hour,
The envy of all that live.

"Why, this is a world of curious things,
Where those who crawl, and those that have wings,
Are ranked in the classes of beggars, and kings,
No matter how much the worth
May be on the side of those who creep,
Where the vain, the light, and the bold will sweep,
Others from notice, and proudly keep
Uppermost on the earth!

"Many a one that has loathed the sight
Of the piteous worm, will take delight
In welcoming me, as I look so bright
In my n. . . Read More