THE MOTH.

Oh, what a beautiful Moth am I! Colours so gay, and sparkling each eye, Nobody ever would guess, I ween, I once was a Caterpillar all in green.

I've taken me feathers of brightest hue, With silver and gold I have decked me too: No, no! you never would guess, I ween, I once was a Caterpillar all in green. With a tardy foot no longer I crawl 'Neath the shady leaves, or on ivied wall; But, joyously floating in airy height, I wander abroad in the pale moonlight;

Or join the Elves as they dance and sing In the circle green of the fairy ring, Or tease a poor Daisy that's trying to keep Its big yellow eye from my curious peep.

But sometimes I fly to a treacherous light, That mimics a star in a darkling night; And too late I learn, with my poor singed wings, The evil that want of discretion oft brings.