[Illustration]

[Illustration: THE BUT-TER-FLY.]



THE BUT-TER-FLY.


A yel-low But-ter-fly one day,
Grown tired of play and tired of fly-ing,
Up-on a this-tle blos-som grey
With out-spread wings was i-dly ly-ing.

The stur-dy bees went hum-ming by,
Draw-ing sweet ho-ney from the clo-ver,
Nor stir-red the yel-low But-ter-fly,
For he was but an i-dle ro-ver.

Two lit-tle girls, named Anne and May,
Came by with mirth and laugh-ter ring-ing,
Anne ran to seize the in-sect gay--
May fol-low-ed fast and ceased her sing-ing.

"Oh! dar-ling An-nie, let it be,
Your touch will rob its plumes of beau-ty;
And God, who made both you and me,