Fly, White Butterflies, Out To Sea, Frail Pale Wings For The Winds To Try, Small White Wings That We Scarce Can See Fly. Here And There May A Chance-Caught Eye Note In A Score Of You Twain Or Three Brighter Or Darker Of Tinge Or Dye. Some Fly Light As A Laugh Of Glee, Some Fly Soft As A Low Long Sigh: All To The Haven Where Each Would Be Fly.