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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.
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
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How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower.
The honey-bee that wanders all day long
The field, the woodland, and the garden o'er,
To gather read more
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.
Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise
Their Master's flower, but leave it having done,
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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.
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.
"O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles
Fly swiftly read more
"O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles
Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells."
Listen! O, listen!
Here come the hum the golden bees
Underneath full blossomed trees,
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Listen! O, listen!
Here come the hum the golden bees
Underneath full blossomed trees,
At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned.
You are my honey, honeysuckle, I am the bee.
You are my honey, honeysuckle, I am the bee.
