A PARAPHRASE

By James Henry Cousins

As the silk-worm, shut from sight,

Cuts a pathway into light;

Makes on mottled leaves repast

Till its wormy coat is cast;

Winds itself in silken weed;

Sheds the future's pearly seed;

Leaves behind its dower of silk,

And with wings as white as milk

Spread for flight, completes its span;

So evolves the soul of man.