Chrysalis
We found it on a bunch of grapes and put it
In cotton-wool, in a matchbox partly open,
In a room in London in winter-time, and in
A safe place, and then forgot it.
Early in the cold spring we said, ‘See this!
Where on earth has the butterfly come from?’
It looked so unnatural whisking about the curtain:
Then we remembered the chrysalis.
There was the broken shell with what was once
The head askew; and what was once the worm
Was away out of the window, out of the warm,
Out of the scene of small violence.
Not strange, that pretty creature formalised
The virtue of its dark unconscious wait
For pincers of light to come and pick it out.
But it was a bad business, our being surprised.
from All the Poems of Muriel Spark
MURIEL SPARK (1918–2006) began a prolific forty year career as a poet, essayist and novelist some time after marrying and living in Rhodesia, divorcing, moving to London, working for UK intelligence during World War II, and editing The Poetry Review. Of Scottish origin, Spark is remembered for the rare artistry of her audacious and often self-reflective fictions. In 1965, she received the James Tait Black Memorial Prize, in 1992, the US Ingersoll Foundation TS Eliot Award, and in 1997, the David Cohen Prize. In 1993, Muriel Spark became Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire.
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