Madison Julius Cawein (Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн)
Beetle and Moth
I. There's a bug at night that goes Drowsily down the garden ways; Lumberingly above the rose, And above the jasmine sprays; Bumping, bungling, buzzing by, Falling finally, to crawl Underneath the rose and lie Near its fairest bud. That's all. And I ask my father why This old bug goes by that way: This is what he has to say: "That's old Parson Beetle, sonny; He's in love with some rich flower; After her and all her honey And he'll have them in an hour. He is awkward, but, I say, With the flowers he has a way; And, I tell you, he's a power; Never fails to get his flower: He's a great old Beetle, sonny." II. Then again, when it is wet, And we sit around the lamp, On the screen, near which it's set, Comes a fluttering, dim and damp, Of white, woolly wings; and I Go to see what's there and find Something like a butterfly, Beating at the window-blind. And I ask my father why This strange creature does that way: This is what he has to say: "Lady Moth that; she's the fashion: Fall's in love with all bright things: She has a consuming passion For this light: will singe her wings. Once it was a star, you know, That she loved. I told you so! Take her up. What lovely rings On her scorched and dainty wings! It's a pity, but the fashion."
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