I’d be a butterfly, born in a bower,
  Where roses and lilies and violets meet.
I’d be a Butterfly.  T.H.  BAYLY.

  Rose suddenly a swarm of butterflies,
    On wings of white and gold and azure fire;
  And one said:  “These are flowers that seek the skies,
  Loosed by the spell of their supreme desire.”
Butterflies.  C.G.D.  ROBERTS.

  So, naturalists observe, a flea
  Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
  And these have smaller still to bite ’em;
  And so proceed ad infinitum.
Poetry:  a Rhapsody.  J. SWIFT.

  I saw a flie within a beade
    Of amber cleanly buried.
On a Fly buried in Amber.  R. HERRICK.

  Oh! that the memories which survive us here
  Were half so lovely as these wings of thine! 
  Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine
  Now thou art gone.
On Finding a Fly Crushed in a Book.  C.T.  TURNER.

  When evening closes Nature’s eye,
    The glow-worm lights her little spark
  To captivate her favorite fly
    And tempt the rover through the dark.
The Glow-worm.  J. MONTGOMERY.

  Ye living lamps, by whose dear light
    The nightingale does sit so late;
  And studying all the summer night,
    Her matchless songs does meditate.
The Mower to the Glow-worm.  A. MARVEL.

  Where the katydid works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree
  over the well.
Leaves of Grass, Pt.  XXXVIII.  W. WHITMAN.

  What gained we, little moth?  Thy ashes,
    Thy one brief parting pang may show: 
  And withering thoughts for soul that dashes,
    From deep to deep, are but a death more slow.
Tragedy of the Night-Moth.  T. CARLYLE.

  The spider’s touch, how exquisitely fine! 
  Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
Essay on Man, Epistle I.  A. POPE.

  Much like a subtle spider, which doth sit
    In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide: 
  If aught do touch the utmost thread of it,
    She feels it instantly on every side.
Immortality of the Soul:  Feeling.  SIR J. DAVIES.

INSTRUCTION.

  ’Tis education forms the common mind: 
  Just as the twig is bent the tree’s inclined.
Moral Essays, Epistle I.  A. POPE.

  Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
  And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
Essay on Criticism.  A. POPE.

                    Most wretched men
  Are cradled into poetry by wrong;
  They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Julian and Maddalo.  P.B.  SHELLEY.

INVENTION.

  Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam! afar
  Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car;
  Or on wide waving wings expanded bear
  The flying-chariot through the field of air.
The Botanic Garden, Pt. 1.  Ch.  I. [1781].  E. DARWIN.