Butterfly Ditty

Summer comes in like a sea,
Wave upon wave how bright;
Thro' the heaven of summer we'll flee
And tipple the light!

From garden to garden,
Such charter have we,
We'll rove and we'll revel,
And idlers we'll be!

We'll rove and we'll revel,
Concerned but for this, —
That Man, Eden's bad boy,
Partakes not the bliss.