Hugo's "Flower to butterfly"
Sweet, bide with me and let my loveBe an enduring tether;Oh, wanton not from spot to spot,But let us dwell together.
You've come each morn to sip the sweetsWith which you found me dripping,Yet never knew it was not dewBut tears that you were sipping.
You gambol over honey meadsWhere siren bees are humming;But mine the fate to watch and waitFor my beloved's coming.
The sunshine that delights you nowShall fade to darkness gloomy;You should not fear if, biding here,You nestled closer to me.
So rest you, love, and be my love,That my enraptured bloomingMay fill your sight with tender light,Your wings with sweet perfuming.
Or, if you will not bide with meUpon this quiet heather,Oh, give me wing, thou beauteous thing,That we may soar together.
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