The Sugar-Plumb by Margery Two-Shoes

A Sprightly Boy, one Summer's Day, Perceived a Butterfly so gay, That all his Wishes it engrossed, To each surrounding Object lost: He left his Fellows, and pursued, With sparkling Eyes, the favourite Good.

Now on the Rose it seem'd to rest, And now to court the Violet's breast, From Flow'r to Flow'r incessant flying, Inviting still, and still denying. Beneath his Hand, beneath his Hat, He often thought he had it pat; The Violet-bed, the Myrtle-sprig, Had made his little Heart grow big. At last, with Joy he saw it venture Within a Tulip's Bell to enter, And "snatch'd" it with ecstatic rapture. But what, alas! was all his Capture? A lifeless Insect, like a Worm, Without one Grace in all its Form!