What irony, or trick of eye, To ascribe to things, what they deny, Such that a thing becomes defined, By what it simply won't abide, And so becomes identified, By what it chose to cast aside, Not by what it holds inside, But that without, which we have spied

A butterfly is named after me, My liege. A name given out for the Crown, Milord. A Royal name for a dainty creature. My first half is the name of a woman, with a look on her face. The second is what doubles the logo of red and yellow.

sheet of material bent round you wear it as a bride or groom a ding from a bell or circular shapes in trees

I can spun into gold I can be a man I can be the last Can you guess what I am?

Tread in the tulips, Nice and light, Swan lake style, Add some height