The Swarm 



need have no fear of the bees that are 

 buzzing around him, settling on his face 

 and hands. The air resounds with their 

 song of ecstasy, which is different far from 

 their chant of anger. He need have no 

 fear that the swarm will divide, or grow 

 fierce, will scatter, or try to escape. This 

 is a day, I repeat, when a spirit of holi- 

 day would seem to animate these mys- 

 terious workers, a spirit of confidence, 

 that apparently nothing can trouble. 

 They have detached themselves from 

 the wealth they had to defend, and they 

 no longer recognise their enemies. They 

 become inoffensive because of their hap- 

 piness, though why they are happy we 

 know not, except it be because they are 

 obeying their law. A moment of such 

 blind happiness is accorded by nature at 

 times to every living thing, when she 

 seeks to accomplish her end. Nor need 

 we feel any surprise that here the bees are 



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