And kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet!
I’d never languish for wealth, or for power,
I’d never sigh to see slaves at my feet;
I’d be a Butterfly born in a bower,
Kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet.
O could I pilfer the wand of a fairy,
I’d have a pair of those beautiful wings;
Their summer days’ ramble is sportive and airy,
They sleep in a rose when the nightingale sings.
Those who have wealth must be watchful and wary;