the dawn one sun bringth,
Olive leaves that basks in the light,
the cacoon her life is over,
a beautiful flower the butterfly that feeds me,
is she the lady we call nature,
or does it show thy weak op'th gender,
Shall I not question her beauty,
may it not bring no dubitare,
no frowns but smile it bringth,
life in art thou shall exist
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