Classic Poem

His white beard tossing in the wind of speed
Made by his passage, down the dusty road
He disappeared, giving no slightest heed
To us his nephews who so bravely strode
After him. In his gentle giant hand
He brandished as he went a little net …
Dear titan uncle from an alien land,
I see you always thus: I see you yet,
With laughing bearded mouth and serious eyes
Pursuing the mirages of your dream—
Most learned Doctor of the Butterflies—
Most childlike follower of wings that gleam!
Now you are dead. . . . Surely above your tomb
Some butterfly hovers against the gloom.