The Bee and the Butterfly

UPON a garden's perfum'd bedWith various gaudy colours spread,Beneath the shelter of a ROSEA BUTTERFLY had sought repose;Faint, with the sultry beams of day,5Supine the beauteous insect lay.

A BEE, impatient to devourThe nectar sweets of ev'ry flow'r,Returning to her golden store,A weight of fragrant treasure bore;10With envious eye, she mark'd the shade,Where the poor BUTTERFLY was laid,And resting on the bending spray,Thus murmur'd forth her drony lay:­

"Thou empty thing, whose merit lies15In the vain boast of orient dies;Whose glittering form the slightest breathRobs of its gloss, and fades to death;Who idly rov'st the summer day,Flutt'ring a transient life away,20Unmindful of the chilling hour,The nipping frost, the drenching show'r;Who heedless of "to-morrow's fare,"Mak'st present bliss thy only care;Is it for THEE, the damask ROSE25With such transcendent lustre glows?Is it for such a giddy thingNature unveils the blushing spring?Hence, from thy lurking place, and know,'Tis not for THEE her beauties glow."30

The BUTTERFLY, with decent pride,In gentle accents, thus reply'd:"'Tis true, I flutter life awayIn pastime, innocent and gay;The SUN that decks the blushing spring35Gives lustre to my painted wing;'Tis NATURE bids each colour vie,With rainbow tints of varying die;I boast no skill, no subtle pow'rTo steal the balm from ev'ry flow'r;40The ROSE, that only shelter'd ME,Has pour'd a load of sweets on THEE;Of merit we have both our share,Heav'n gave thee ART, and made me FAIR;And tho' thy cunning can despise45The humble worth of harmless flies;Remember, envious, busy thing,Thy honey'd form conceals a sting;Enjoy thy garden, while I roveThe sunny hill, the woodbine grove,50And far remov'd from care and THEE,Embrace my humble destiny;While in some lone sequester'd bow'r,I'll live content beyond thy pow'r;For where ILL-NATURE holds her reign55TASTE, WORTH, and BEAUTY, plead in vain;E'en GENIUS must to PRIDE submitWhen ENVY wings the shaft of WIT.