LADY-BUG.
��While the morning brought her sun and dew To anoint and polish her idle face.
The sunshine lighted her rosy room, Perfumed and warm was the air within,
And all the span of the August days She needed not either toil or spin.
And so the time of the summer passed,
While provident ants went hurrying by, Till tempests threatened the garden-queen,
And clouds went drifting across the sky. Lady-bug crept to the rose s heart,
But found, alas ! it was strangely chill ; She ventured out on a strong green leaf,
But found her world looking damp and ill.
"Along the muddy and tarnished way
Could she, a Lady-bug, walk ? Not she. She could not plod like the vulgar ants ; Some other way there would doubtless be."
Still, one by one went the rosy walls,
Worn by the tempest and soaked with mist, And the chilling winds whistled round about ;
The sun neglected to keep its tryst ; Louder and stormier grew the blast ;
The scattered leaves flitted far and wide, Until at last not a petal pale
Bid the Lady-bug in its shelter bide.
Then she bethought her of sundry ants,
"Who were all akin, quite a near relation ;
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