This is the "final draft" of Fireflies. Like I said on the "Rough Draft," I still don't know which I like better.

The Fireflies were out last night,
The first ones of the season.
I danced and shouted with delight,
But had no real reason.
I chased the Lightning-Bugs in flight,
And was a child again.
The feeling gave me such a fright,
Yet I couldn't hold my joy in.
I chased the little balls of light,
Until I could run no more.
I knew that everything was right,
And I felt my spirit soar.
I knew that I could not cite
The feeling that I felt then.
I stood under the old street-light,
And wished for a good friend,
To chase with me the bugs so bright
They were like stars on earth.
And it was so injust, quite:
The companian dearth.

So because

It is so injust, quite:
Come chase with me the bugs so bright!
Come stand under the old street-light,
And also know that you can't cite
The feeling everything is right,
And chase the little balls of light,
The feeling may give you a fright,
But we'll chase the Lightning-Bugs in flight,
And dance and shout out with delight,
"The Fireflies are out to-night!"