PLEASURE. 2G1
��PLEASURE.
��BY MARY, HELEN BOODEY.
Two brown butterflies, dotted with gold, Swift of wing and fair to behold, Sailed along with pleasure untold
Through a beautiful valley ; Flow'rets bloomed on every side, Bright with beauty and gay with pride, And a shining rill down the mountain side
Tinkled most musically.
On the butterflies' gold the sun shone warm, There was naught to sadden and naught to harm, Life was full of a varied charm,
As they loitered through the valley : Sipping the honey and drinking the dew, Pleased with all that met their view, Earth so green and sky so blue,
Who would not thus dally?
Oh ! this was Fairyland, I ween, And one was king and one was queen Of the fairest realm that ever was seen,
These butterflies brown and golden ; And so they ruled in royal state, Full of the bliss of a happy fate, And kept their kingdom inviolate,
Not dreaming 'twas lightly holden.
But a monster grim, whose name was Change, Looked over the top of the mountain range, And all the scene grew wild and strange ;
Alas ! for the reign of Pleasure ! The sky became one black, black cloud, And the voice of the wind wailed fierce and loud, The weeping mists did weave a shroud,
And Joy had won its measure.
" Alas ! alas ! alas ! " they cry, Saddened King and Queen Butterfly, Drenched and chilled, they will surely die,
Their royal reign is over. A mocking voice seems to cry " Ha! ha! " And the rushing wind bears from afar The secret moan of a falling star,
For Joy is a sad, sad rover.
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