BEES. 95 



Thou art a fool, thou busy busy Bee ! 



Thus for another to toil ! 

 Thy master waits till thy work is done,, 

 Till the latest flowers of the ivy are gone^ 



And then he will seize the spoil, 

 And will murder thee, thou poor little Bet ! 



Anthologv. 



Description of an Apiary: hy the Rev, 

 Thomas Maurice. 



Reflected from Augusta's glittering spires, 



The sun darts fiercely his meridian fires; 



"With brighter splendour shines each glistening 



stream, -.,^ 



While nature pants beneath the fervid beam. ; 

 For shelter from the sultry dog-star's heat, 

 To the deep glen the fainting herd retreat; 

 Listless repose beneath the gloomy brake, 

 Or headlong plunge amid the cooling lake. 

 Mark how intensely, while the blazing day 

 Pours on their glowing hives its fiercest ray. 

 Yon buzzing tribes pursue their ceaseless toil, 

 Loaded with all the garden's fragrant spoil ; 

 Darkening the air, behold the unnumber'd throng, 

 In driving swarms, harmonious glide along; 

 All in strong bonds of social union join'd, 

 Dne mighty empire, one pervading mind ; 



