在一片宁静宜人的草地上，在夏日的天空下，苍翠的老树摇曳着枝叶，风唱着歌走过;那里有一条小溪潺潺而过，潺潺之声低沉如音乐，过路的云在下面摇曳的草地上投下阴影;在那里，孵蛋的鸟儿在芬芳的空气中悄悄地发出低沉而甜美的声音，金色的阳光毫不暗淡地照耀着一切最清新、最美丽的东西;——在那里，幸福的小花们结成了可爱的姐妹，在宁静的夏日里，在这个愉快的家里一起开放。没有粗鲁的手来采摘，没有寒风来枯萎;白天温暖的阳光向他们微笑，晚上柔软的露珠落下来。于是，在这里，沿着溪边，在青翠的古树下，花儿和它们的朋友，阳光和微风，住在一起。一天早晨，花儿醒了，芬芳、清新、美丽，一只小虫子爬过来，请求在那里避难。“啊!可怜可怜我吧，爱我吧，”蚯蚓叹息道，“我孤独、贫穷、软弱;亲爱的花儿，我所寻找的，就是一个小小的休息的地方。 I am not fair, and have dwelt unloved By butterfly, bird, and bee. They little knew that in this dark form Lay the beauty they yet may see. Then let me lie in the deep green moss, And weave my little tomb, And sleep my long, unbroken sleep Till Spring's first flowers come. Then will I come in a fairer dress, And your gentle care repay By the grateful love of the humble worm; Kind flowers, O let me stay!' But the wild rose showed her little thorns, While her soft face glowed with pride; The violet hid beneath the drooping ferns, And the daisy turned aside. Little Houstonia scornfully laughed, As she danced on her slender stem; While the cowslip bent to the rippling waves, And whispered the tale to them. A blue-eyed grass looked down on the worm, As it silently turned away, And cried, 'Thou wilt harm our delicate leaves, And therefore thou canst not stay.' Then a sweet, soft voice, called out from far, 'Come hither, poor worm, to me; The sun lies warm in this quiet spot, And I'll share my home with thee.' The wondering flowers looked up to see Who had offered the worm a home: 'T was a clover-blossom, whose fluttering leaves Seemed beckoning him to come; It dwelt in a sunny little nook, Where cool winds rustled by, And murmuring bees and butterflies came, On the flower's breast to lie. Down through the leaves the sunlight stole, And seemed to linger there, As if it loved to brighten the home Of one so sweet and fair. Its rosy face smiled kindly down, As the friendless worm drew near; And its low voice, softly whispering, said 'Poor thing, thou art welcome here; Close at my side, in the soft green moss, Thou wilt find a quiet bed, Where thou canst softly sleep till Spring, With my leaves above thee spread. I pity and love thee, friendless worm, Though thou art not graceful or fair; For many a dark, unlovely form, Hath a kind heart dwelling there; No more o'er the green and pleasant earth, Lonely and poor, shalt thou roam, For a loving friend hast thou found in me, And rest in my little home.' Then, deep in its quiet mossy bed, Sheltered from sun and shower, The grateful worm spun its winter tomb, In the shadow of the flower. And Clover guarded well its rest, Till Autumn's leaves were sere, Till all her sister flowers were gone, And her winter sleep drew near. Then her withered leaves were softly spread O'er the sleeping worm below, Ere the faithful little flower lay Beneath the winter snow. Spring came again, and the flowers rose From their quiet winter graves, And gayly danced on their slender stems, And sang with the rippling waves. Softly the warm winds kissed their cheeks; Brightly the sunbeams fell, As, one by one, they came again In their summer homes to dwell. And little Clover bloomed once more, Rosy, and sweet, and fair, And patiently watched by the mossy bed, For the worm still slumbered there. Then her sister flowers scornfully cried, As they waved in the summer air, 'The ugly worm was friendless and poor; Little Clover, why shouldst thou care? Then watch no more, nor dwell alone, Away from thy sister flowers; Come, dance and feast, and spend with us These pleasant summer hours. We pity thee, foolish little flower, 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