No other fairy did I see

So graceful, pulsing, in the air,

As if the heart of nature beat

Its throbbings in the birdlet there.

The gray, the green, the dash of red,

The beating wings that gauzy seem—

So rapid the vibrating hum—

I almost dream were but a dream.

Then suddenly I cry aloud,

When in a rapid-shooting ray,

My fairy disappears, a-flash,

Into the sun-haunts far away.

Willis Edwin Hurd.