Classic Poem

The butterfly is in love with the rose:
Flits round her for delight;
But himself the amorous sunbeam woos,
Hovering soft and golden-bright.

And who is the rose in love with, say?
I've sought the answer far;
Is it the singing nightingale?
Is it the silent evening star?

I know not with whom the rose is in love,
But each and all love I, —
The rose, the sun, the evening star,
The nightingale and the butterfly!