Anon.
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.