The butterfly the ancient Grecians made <br />The soul's fair emblem, and its only name-- <br />But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade <br />Of mortal life !--For in this earthly frame <br />Ours is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame, <br />Manifold motions making little speed, <br />And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.<br /><br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psyche/
