Life (Priest And Poet Say) Is But A Dream; I Wish No Happier One Than To Be Laid Beneath A Cool Syringa'S Scented Shade, Or Wavy Willow, By The Running Stream, Brimful Of Moral, Where The Dragon-Fly, Wanders As Careless And Content As I. Thanks For This Fancy, Insect King, Of Purple Crest And Filmy Wing, Who With Indifference Givest Up The Water-Lily'S Golden Cup, To Come Again And Overlook What I Am Writing In My Book. Believe Me, Most Who Read The Line Will Read With Hornier Eyes Than Thine; And Yet Their Souls Shall Live For Ever, And Thine Drop Dead Into The River! God Pardon Them, O Insect King, Who Fancy So Unjust A Thing!