Butterfly Wisdom by Unknown Author Insect poem

A butterfly poised on a wild-rose spray,
As a child tripped by one summer day,
And he thought: "How sorrowful she must be
To know she can never have wings like me!"
But the child passed on, with a careless eye
Of the gay-winged, proud, young butterfly,
While he fluttered about, as butterflies will,
Sipping of honey and dew his fill.

The butterfly spread his wings to the sky,
As the sweet-faced child again tripped by,
And he thought: "How envious she will be
My beautiful azure wings to see!"
But the child passed, with a lightsome heart,
Where never had lodged a poisonous dart,
While he fluttered about, as butterflies will,
Sipping of honey and dew his fill.

When the child again passed the wild-rose sweet,
A bit of azure fell at her feet;
She lifted it from the moss, and said:—
"Poor little butterfly, it is dead!"
Then she tossed it up towards the wild-rose spray,
And, singing merrily, went her way,
With never a thought, the summer through,
Of the butterfly and its wings of blue.