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

As busie as a Bee.

As busie as a Bee.

Therefore doth heaven divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavor in continual motion;
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Therefore doth heaven divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavor in continual motion;
To which is fixed as an aim or butt
Obedience; for so work the honeybees,
Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts,
Where some like magistrates correct at home,
Others like merchants venture trade abroad,
Others like soldiers armed in their stings
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent-royal of their emperor,
Who, busied in his majesties, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold,
The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
The sad-eyed justice with his surly hum
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy yawning drone.

Seeing only what is fair,
Sipping only what is sweet,
. . . .
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Seeing only what is fair,
Sipping only what is sweet,
. . . .
Leave the chaff, and take the wheat.

"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."

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.

The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
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The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
Is aristocracy.

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.

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
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His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!