Seeking with memories grown dim o'er night
Some resting flower of yesterday's delight.
And once I marked his flight go round and round,
As where some flower lay withering on the ground.
And then he flew as far as eye could see,
And then on tremulous wing came back to me.
I thought of questions that have no reply,
And would have turned to toss the grass to dry;
But he turned first, and led my eye to look
At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook,
A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared
Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.
I left my place to know them by their name,
Finding them butterfly weed when I came.
The mower in the dew had loved them thus,
By leaving them to flourish, not for us,
Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him.
The persona follows the butterfly’s signals towards the flowers. Suggesting to ‘know them by their name’ may be suggesting to give respect. As he comes, he finds the butterfly and the flowers. 
 In Frost’s poetry, names are associated with spells and magic. The narrator has the power to connect the flowers with the butterfly’s experience, and his own; they act as spiritual invocations, allows the flowers to become individual and particular “butterfly weed”, and are no long invisible or ordinary.
The Tuft of Flowers