Classic Poem

" WAS it not enough, " said the toad,
" To have sun and food and dirt,
But a flame that flared and glowed
Must hurtle you on to hurt?
You, with your broken wing,
Beaten and bruised and burned —
Fool to have sought the light
And found what your folly earned.
Is it not peace to rest
In the mellow mud of the road? "
" Alas, but the flame was fair! "
Said the moth to the toad.

" You have flown, " said the toad, " for this,
To lie hurt and dying and torn;
You are crazed and killed with a kiss,
You are scorched by a mocking scorn,
When one has warmth and food,
And may sit and blink in the light,
That is all and enough of good.
Lie, fool, and mourn your flight!
Envy me where I squat
Unscathed in the mud of the road! "
" Alas, but the flame was sweet! "
Said the moth to the toad.