Away from her sister child of dust—
Declaring she never yet could see
Why a reptile form like this should be,
And that she was not made with nerves so firm,
As calmly to stand by a “crawling worm!”
With mute forbearance the silk-worm took
The taunting words, and the spurning look:
Alike a stranger to self and pride,
She’d no disquiet from aught beside—
And lived of a meekness and peace possessed,