The Butterfly

The butterfly from flower to flower
The urchin chas-d; and, when at last
He caught it in my lady-s bower,
He cried, -Ha, ha!� and held it fast.

Awhile he laugh-d, but soon he wept,
When looking at the prize he-d caught
He found he had to ruin swept
The very glory he had sought

Joseph Skipsey The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.