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 Joy from that in type we borrow,
Which in life gives only sorrow.
A DRAGON-FLY with beauteous wing Is hov'ring o'er a silv'ry spring; I watch its motions with delight,-- Now dark its colours seem, now bright; Chameleon-like appear, now blue, Now red, and now of greenish hue.
Would it would come still nearer me, That I its tints might better see It hovers, flutters, resting ne'er! But hush! it settles on the mead.
I have it safe now, I declare! And when its form I closely view, 'Tis of a sad and dingy blue-- Such, Joy-Dissector, is thy case indeed 1767-9.

Poem by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
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Book: Shattered Sighs