When you were very young, did you go outside in the evening and see all the little glowing lights around you? I remember them well. We called them lightening bugs back in my part of the world.
Ye living lamps by whose dear light
The nightingale does sit so late
And studying all the summer night
Her matchless songs does meditate;
Ye country comets, that portend
No war, nor prince’s funeral.
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the grasses’ fall.
Ye glow-worms, whose officious flame
To wandering movers shows the way,
That in the night have lost their aim,
And after foolish fires do stray;
Your courteous lights in vain you waste,
Since Juliana here is come,
For she my mind hath so displaced
That I shall never find my home.
The above poem “Mower to the Glow-Worms, was written by Andrew Marvell (1621-1678). At the end of this poem Andrew Marvell writes,
“At various stages of their lives, members of the well named Lampyridae family are called glow-worms, fireflies, lightening bugs, and lightning beetles. Poets from all over the world have loved them for centuries. They are magnets for all sorts of lore and literature.”
I remember them well from my childhood years. Used to put a bit of grass in a canning jar and caught them and watched their little lights “blink”.
Ah, yes. The yester-years of life.
Enjoy on this Monday morning. Marge