Thomas Haynes Bayly

Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content read more

Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth,
And make use of your wings while you may.
. . . .
But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite,
They at last found it dangerous play;
Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth,
Only dazzle to lead us astray.

There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.

There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.

O pilot! 'tis a fearful night,
There's danger on the deep.

O pilot! 'tis a fearful night,
There's danger on the deep.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet.

I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet.