“‘I weep for that which can never be,
I sigh for a wider sphere—
Would, little moth, I had wings like thine!
Instead, I am rooted here.’
“‘A moth, my life is a sweet content,
But no worthy life for thee.’
‘Change!’ cried the daisy; ‘take my place;
A little white moth I’d be.’
“And lo! the daisy took silver wings,
And forth from the meadow flew;