Hurrah for the Bonnets of Blue (Glasgow, 1829)/I'd be a Butterfly

by Thomas Haynes Bayly

I’D BE A BUTTERFLY.

I’d be a butterfly born in a how’r,
Where roses and lillies’ and violets meet
Roving for ever from flower to flower.
And kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet.
I’d never languish for wealth or for power,
I’d never sigh, to see slaves at my feet,
I’d be a butterfly born in a how’r,
And kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet.
I’d be a butterfly, &c.

Oh, could I pilfer the wand of a fairy,
I’d have a pair of those beautiful wings;
Their summer days ramble is sportive and airy,
They sleep in a rose when the nighingale sings.
Those who have wealth must be watchful and wary,
Power, alas! nought but misery brings,
I’d be a butterfly sportive and airy.
Rock’d in a rose, when the nightingale sings.
I’d be a butterfly, &c.

What tho’ you tell me each gay little rover,
Shrinks from the breath of the first autumn day;
Surely ’tis better when summer is over,
To die, when all fair things are fading away.
Some in life’s winter may toil to discover,
Means of procuring a weary delay;
I’d be a butterfly, living a rover,
Dying when fair things are fading away.
I'd be a butterfly, &c.

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