Other poets try to express the romance of insects in the form of a monologue, full of the thought of our own age.

Others again touch the subject of insects only in connection with the subject of love.

I will give one example of each method, keeping the best piece for the last, and beginning with a pretty fancy about a dragonfly.
MA LIBELLULE En te voyant, toute mignonne, Blanche dans ta robe d'azure, Je pensais a quelque madone Drapee en un pen de ciel pur.
Je songeais a ces belles saintes Que l'on voyait au temps jadis Sourire sur les vitres peintes, Montrant d'un doigt le paradis: Et j'aurais voulu, loin du monde Qui passait frivole entre nous, Dans quelque retraite profonde T'adorer seul a deux genoux.
This first part of the poem is addressed of course to a beautiful child, some girl between the age of childhood and womanhood: "Beholding thee, Oh darling one, all white in thy azure dress, I thought of some figure of the Madonna robed in a shred of pure blue sky.
"I dreamed of those beautiful figures of saints whom one used to see in olden times smiling in the stained glass of church windows, and pointing upward to Paradise.
"And I could have wished to adore you alone upon my bended knees in some far hidden retreat, away from the frivolous world that passed between us." This little bit of ecstasy over the beauty and purity of a child is pretty, but not particularly original.

However, it is only an introduction.

Now comes the pretty part of the poem: Soudain un caprice bizarre Change la scene et le decor, Et mon esprit au loin s'egare Sur des grands pres d'azure et d'or Ou, pres de ruisseaux muscules Gazouillants comme des oiseaux, Se poursuivent les libellules, Ces fleurs vivantes des roseaux.
Enfant, n'es tu pas l'une d'elles Qui me poursuit pour consoler?
Vainement tu caches tes ailes; Tu marches, mais tu sais voler.
Petite fee au bleu corsage, Que j'ai connu des mon berceau, En revoyant ton doux visage, Je pense aux joncs de mon ruisseau! Veux-tu qu'en amoureux fideles Nous revenions dans ces pres verts?
Libellule, reprends tes ailes; Moi, je brulerai tous mes vers! Et nous irons, sous la lumiere, D'un ciel plus frais et plus leger Chacun dans sa forme premiere, Moi courir, et toi voltiger.
"Suddenly a strange fancy changes for me the scene and the scenery; and my mind wanders far away over great meadows of azure and gold.
"Where, hard by tiny streams that murmur with a sound like voices of little birds, the dragon-flies, those living flowers of the reeds, chase each other at play.
"Child, art thou not one of those dragon-flies, following after me to console me?
Ah, it is in vain that thou tryest to hide thy wings; thou dost walk, indeed, but well thou knowest how to fly! "O little fairy with the blue corsage whom I knew even from the time I was a baby in the cradle; seeing again thy sweet face, I think of the rushes that border the little stream of my native village! "Dost thou not wish that even now as faithful lovers we return to those green fields?
O dragon-fly, take thy wings again, and I--I will burn all my poetry, "And we shall go back, under the light of the sky more fresh and pure than this, each of us in the original form--I to run about, and thou to hover in the air as of yore." The sight of a child's face has revived for the poet very suddenly and vividly, the recollection of the village home, the green fields of childhood, the little stream where he used to play with the same little girl, sometimes running after the dragon-fly.