A butterfly with spangles gay,

Met a bumble bee, one day,

Where the sunshine warmly lay

Turning clover into hay.

“Hark!” said lovely Shining Wings,

“Hear how loud that blackbird sings!

Don’t you think the summer brings

Just the brightest, sweetest things?

“See the color of the sky;

See the clouds that sail so high;

See the milkweed floating by”—

Said the dainty butterfly.

“Smell the clover blossoms there,

Scenting all the summer air;

Nothing half so sweet or fair,

As this meadow, anywhere!”

Bumble jerked his little head,

Then he rather crossly said:

“Well, I like the clover red,

Not for perfume, but for bread!

“All the world knows that a bee

Much too busy is to see

Beauty merely. All that he

Cares for is utility.”

Shining Wings then made reply:

“Though I’m but a butterfly,

Beauty’s faithful lover I,

And without it fain to die.

“Life itself is naught, poor bee,

If it’s but utility;

Sure am I ’twas meant that we

Should the beauty, also, see;

“Else there were no summer sky,

Nor the clouds to sail on high;

Else no milkweed floating by,

Nor spangles for the butterfly!”

Angry Bumble flew away,

Leaving Shining Wings to stay

Where the sunshine warmly lay,

Turning clover into hay.

Sarah E. Sprague.