Swarm Watching. 



The air is clear the day is warm, 

 John Dull sits watching for a swarm; 



12 



"What's this? he thought; while I've been talking 

 My bees are aU prepared for walking, 

 Staves in their hands, and on his back 

 Each carries his provision pack. 



He strains his sight into the hole; 

 "They'll swarm to day — upon my soul." 



His brain swims round, his eyes feel heavy. 

 He sees no more the increasing levee. 



