Here you will find the Poem The Butterfly of poet Ann Taylor
THE Butterfly, an idle thing, Nor honey makes, nor yet can sing, As do the bee and bird; Nor does it, like the prudent ant, Lay up the grain for times of want, A wise and cautious hoard. My youth is but a summer's day: Then like the bee and ant I'll lay A store of learning by; And though from flower to flower I rove, My stock of wisdom I'll improve Nor be a butterfly.
