4534862Poems — The Captive ButterflyClara A. Merrill
THE CAPTIVE BUTTERFLY
(A true tale)
One morn as I walked in the meadow Where flooded the sun's golden light Athwart tree and shrub—mid the grasses A butterfly gorgeous and bright
Was caught in a web which a spider Had deftly and craftily wrought; Aloft as a snare she had placed it And the unwary butterfly caught.
Vainly the poor insect fluttered To be freed from the web's fleecy fold; But its wings were caught fast in its meshes And its fate could be plainly foretold.
It appealed to my heart so pathetic Ne'er thought I to ignore its strife It was one of God's own little creatures And it had a good right to its life.
So I knelt there beside the small captive And gently the fine web I tore; Then away on glad wings it bounded, Rejoicing in freedom once more.
It was only a poor lowly insect, Yet perchance, does the Good Father see Small deeds that are wrought in the spirit of love He would say "Ye did this unto Me."
In the Book where all works are recorded—In that Haven up yonder so fair; Who knows but one mark bright and shining Now illumines my name "over there."
