Explore "Summer Song" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My heart's a yellow butterfly That flutters down the road; A beggar, tricksy, dancing thing That scorns a fixed abode.
The aigrette of the thistle bloom Becomes the swinging sign Of merry hostelries, where I May pause awhile and dine.
The sky is lapis lazuli Bestrewn by clouds of pearl, -- Who would not be a butterfly Instead of just a girl?