O marry me, and be not cold,
For I have a belly of glistening gold.
My back is a mass of glory and show,
There rubies glitter, there emeralds glow—
O would that I were a fool just now!
I’d never marry a beetle, I vow.
I care not for emeralds, rubies, or gold,
I know that no happiness riches enfold.
’Tis tow’rd the ideal my thought soars high,
For I am in truth a haughty fly.—
The beetle flew off, with a heart like to break,
The fly went away, a bath to take.
O what has become of my maid, the bee,
That she when I’m washing may wait on me,
That she may stroke my soft hair outside,
For I am now a beetle’s bride.
In truth, a splendid party I’ll give,
For handsomer beetle never did live.
His back is a mass of glory and show,
There rubies glitter, there emeralds glow.