1 791' LITER ART INTELLIGENCER. 2l6l 



T^he Bee. 

 A Bee, the bufieft thing alive, 

 The mod induftrious of the hive, 



Had toil'd for many hours ; 

 Had rifled gardens, lawns and fields, 

 Or what the fpicy flirub'rj yields, 



Of balmy herbs and flowers. 



Each hill and dale well knew his fong ; 

 To him their honied ftores belong ; 



Then why new fcenes explore ?— 

 Ambitious of a nobler prize, 

 He through my Annci's window flies. 



To crown his plunder'd ftore. 



There, buzzing round her beauteous lips, 

 Which did the blooming rofe eclipfe. 



Their tempting fweets to fpoil, 

 Eager he whirls round the fair, 

 'Till, ''tangled in her lovely hair, 



He's fcized amid the toil. 



Ye fwains, take warning from the Bee, 

 Flee the enticing fnare, ah I flee ; 



By him and me be taught : 

 Avoid thofe dear bewitching charms, 

 Nor hope to gain her to your arms, 



Or, like us, you'll be caught. E, ■^*. 



Edinburgh, ~l 



January 19, 1791. J 



