Part 1 — THE BUTTERFLY AND THE BEE
Reading edition
Methought I heard a butterfly Say to a laboring bee; "Thou hast no colors of the sky On painted wings like me."
"Poor child of vanity! those dyes, And colors bright and rare," With mild reproof, the bee replies, "Are all beneath my care."
"Content I toil from morn till eve, And, scorning idleness, To tribes of gaudy sloth I leave The vanity of dress."
William Lisle Bowles [1762-1850]