Bee Song. 



11 



And blest his bees, and in their praise 

 He chanted forth these jocund lays. 



Fly forth, dear Bees, 'tis morn, fly forth 

 To South, to Korth, to West, to East; 

 And cuU from every fragrant flower 

 A honied feast. 



Ply Home, dear Bees, 'tis Eve, fly home! 

 From North, from South, from East, from "West; 

 Store in your cells your luscious spoil. 

 And sweetly rest. 



