Fireflies

Seen on a country road at night, the approaching headlights of various cars...

How sleepless the night!

How your Lords of Mischance

Trace their ribbons of light

In some untoward dance.

 

How cold does he lie,

He, who once, made of man

Traced his final firefly

Through the last of his sand!

 

What dark rings the eye,

What quivers the hand,

In what cold glows the hearth

By whose word, by whose wand?

 

How sleepless the night!

When the fireflies leap

In the ribbons of darkness,

By whose light weep?

 

David Lewis Paget