"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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP by GEORGE FREDERICK ROOT THOUGHT OF A BRITON ON THE SUBJUGATION OF SWITZERLAND by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH REALISM by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THESE TIMES by GERTRUDE RYDER BENNETT |