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.

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.

The solitary Bee
Whose buzzing was the only sound of life,
Flew there on restless wing,
read more

The solitary Bee
Whose buzzing was the only sound of life,
Flew there on restless wing,
Seeking in vain one blossom where to fix.

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.

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.

For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee
Which bore my Love away
I'le seek him in your read more

For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee
Which bore my Love away
I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave,
I'le seek him in your eyes.

How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
read more

How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower.

The little bee returns with evening's gloom,
To join her comrades in the braided hive,
Where, housed read more

The little bee returns with evening's gloom,
To join her comrades in the braided hive,
Where, housed beside their might honey-comb,
They dream their polity shall long survive.

Burly, dozing humblebee,
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique,
read more

Burly, dozing humblebee,
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique,
Far-off heats through seas to seek.
I will follow thee alone,
Thou animated torrid-zone!