The honey-bee that wanders all day long
The field, the woodland, and the garden o'er,
To gather in his fragrant winter store,
Humming in calm content his winter song,
Seeks not alone the rose's glowing breast,
The lily's dainty cup, the violet's lips,
But from all rank and noxious weeds he sips
The single drop of sweetness closely pressed
Within the poison chalice.
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The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With read more
The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies.
The wild Bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing,
Now read more
The wild Bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing,
Now in a lily cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering.
Seeing only what is fair,
Sipping only what is sweet,
. . . .
read more
Seeing only what is fair,
Sipping only what is sweet,
. . . .
Leave the chaff, and take the wheat.
The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
read more
The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
Is aristocracy.
In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true
From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?
In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true
From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?
The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the
sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems read more
The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the
sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.
It has obtained a worthy reward for its great toils; we may
suppose that the bee itself would have desired such a death.
You are my honey, honeysuckle, I am the bee.
You are my honey, honeysuckle, I am the bee.
Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise
Their Master's flower, but leave it having done,
read more
Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise
Their Master's flower, but leave it having done,
As fair as ever and as fit to use;
So both the flower doth stay and honey run.
