Flower Fables by Louisa May Alcott

To trust what the false worm said;

He will not come in a fairer dress,

For he lies in the green moss dead.”

But little Clover still watched on,

Alone in her sunny home;

She did not doubt the poor worm’s truth,

And trusted he would come.

At last the small cell opened wide,

And a glittering butterfly,

From out the moss, on golden wings,

Soared up to the sunny sky.

Then the wondering flowers cried aloud,

“Clover, thy watch was vain;

He only sought a shelter here,

And never will come again.”

And the unkind flowers danced for joy,

When they saw him thus depart;

For the love of a beautiful butterfly

Is dear to a flower’s heart.

They feared he would stay in Clover’s home,

And her tender care repay;

So they danced for joy, when at last he rose

And silently flew away.

Then little Clover bowed her head,

While her soft tears fell like dew;

For her gentle heart was grieved, to find

That her sisters’ words were true,

And the insect she had watched so long

When helpless, poor, and lone,

Thankless for all her faithful care,

On his golden wings had flown.

But as she drooped, in silent grief,

She heard little Daisy cry,

“O sisters, look! I see him now,

Afar in the sunny sky;

He is floating back from Cloud-Land now,

Borne by the fragrant air.

Spread wide your leaves, that he may choose

The flower he deems most fair.”

Then the wild rose glowed with a deeper blush,

As she proudly waved on her stem;

The Cowslip bent to the clear blue waves,

And made her mirror of them.

Little Houstonia merrily danced,

And spread her white leaves wide;

While Daisy whispered her joy and hope,

As she stood by her gay friends’ side.

Violet peeped from the tall green ferns,

And lifted her soft blue eye

To watch the glittering form, that shone

Afar in the summer sky.

They thought no more of the ugly worm,

Who once had wakened their scorn;

But looked and longed for the butterfly now,

As the soft wind bore him on.

Nearer and nearer the bright form came,

And fairer the blossoms grew;

Each welcomed him, in her sweetest tones;

Each offered her honey and dew.

But in vain did they beckon, and smile, and call,

And wider their leaves unclose;

The glittering form still floated on,

By Violet, Daisy, and Rose.

Lightly it flew to the pleasant home

Of the flower most truly fair,

On Clover’s breast he softly lit,

And folded his bright wings there.

“Dear flower,” the butterfly whispered low,

“Long hast thou waited for me;

Now I am come, and my grateful love

Shall brighten thy home for thee;

Thou hast loved and cared for me, when alone,

Hast watched o’er me long and well;

And now will I strive to show the thanks

The poor worm could not tell.

Sunbeam and breeze shall come to thee,

And the coolest dews that fall;

Whate’er a flower can wish is thine,

For thou art worthy all.

And the home thou shared with the friendless worm

The butterfly’s home shall be;

And thou shalt find, dear, faithful flower,

A loving friend in me.”

Then, through the long, bright summer hours

Through sunshine and through shower,

Together in their happy home

Dwelt butterfly and flower.

“Ah, that is very lovely,” cried the Elves, gathering round

little Sunbeam as she ceased, to place a garland in her hair and

praise her song.

“Now,” said the Queen, “call hither Moon-light and Summer-Wind,

for they have seen many pleasant things in their long wanderings,

and will gladly tell us them.”

“Most joyfully will we do our best, dear Queen,” said the Elves,

as they folded their wings beside her.

“Now, Summer-Wind,” said Moonlight, “till your turn comes, do you sit

here and fan me while I tell this tale of




IN a large and pleasant garden sat little Annie all alone, and

she seemed very sad, for drops that were not dew fell fast upon the

flowers beside her, who looked wonderingly up, and bent still nearer,

as if they longed to cheer and comfort her. The warm wind lifted up

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Categories: Alcott, Louisa May