Waked by his warmer ray, the reptile young <br />Came wing'd abroad; by the light air upborne <br />Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink <br />And secret corner, where they slept away <br />The wintry storms; or rising from their tombs <br />To higher life; by myriads, forth at once, <br />Swarming they pour; of all the varied hues <br />Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose. <br />Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes! <br />People the blaze. To sunny waters some <br />By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool <br />They sportive wheel, or sailing down the stream, <br />Are snatch'd immediate, by the quick-eyed trout, <br />Or darting salmon. Through the greenwood glade <br />Some love to stray; there lodged, amused, and fed, <br />In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make <br />The meads their choice, and visit every flower, <br />And every latent herb; and where to wrap, <br />In what soft beds, their young yet undisclosed, <br />Employs their tender care. Some to the house, <br />The fold, the dairy, hungry, bend their flight; <br />Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese; <br />Oft, inadvertent, from the milky stream, <br />They meet their fate; or, weltering in the bowl, <br />With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire.<br /><br />James Thomson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/insects-in-summer/
