HERE lies, now a prey to insulting neglect,
What once was a butterfly, gay in life’s beam:
Want only of wisdom denied her respect,
Want only of goodness denied her esteem.
by Eugene Field
'Tis the time of the year's sundown, and flame
Hangs on the maple bough;
And June is the faded flower of a name;
The thin hedge hides not a singer now.
Yet rich am I; for my treasures be