AN INSECT.
Only an insect; yet I know
It felt the sunlight's golden glow,
And the sweet morning made it glad
With all the little heart it had.
It saw the shadows move; it knew
The grass-blades glittered, wet with dew;
And gayly o'er the ground it went;
It had its fulness of content.
Some dainty morsel then it spied,
And for the treasure turned aside;
Then, laden with its little spoil,
Back to its nest began to toil.
An insect formed of larger frame,
Called man, along the pathway came.
A ruthless foot aside he thrust,
And ground the beetle in the dust.
Perchance no living being missed
The life that there ceased to exist;
Perchance the passive creature knew
No wrong, nor felt the deed undue;
Yet its small share of life was given
By the same hand that orders heaven.
'Twas for no other power to say,
Or should it go or should it stay.
Anon.