354 THE BEE-KEEPER’S MANUAL. 
“See where, with hurried step, the impassioned throng 
Pace o’er the hive, and seem, with plaintive song, 
To invite their loitering queen; now range the floor, 
And hang in clustered columns from the door ; 
Or now in restless rings around they fly, 
Nor spoil they sip, nor load the hollowed thich ; 
E’en the dull drone his wonted ease gives o’er. 
Flaps the unwieldy wing, and longs to soar.” 
Presently the hesitation 1s over :— 
‘Mounts the glad chief! and, to the cheated cvye, 
» Ten thousand shuttles dart along the sky, 
As swift through ether rise the rushing swarms, 
Gay dancing to the beam their sun-bright forms, 
And each thin form, still lingering on the sight, 
Trails, as it shoots, a line of silver light. 
* * * * * * * 
High poised on buoyant wing, the thoughtful queen 
In gaze attentive views the varied scene, 
And soon her far-stretched ken discerns below 
The light laburnum lift her polished brow, 
Wave her green leafy ringlets o’er the clade, 
And seem to beckon to her friendly shade. 
Swift as the falcon’s sweep, the monarch bends 
Her flight abrupt: the following host descends ; 
Round the fine twig, like clustered grapes, they close 
In thickening wreaths, and court a short repose.” 
Next we are presented with a detailed account of the 
process of comb-building, in the course of which Dr. Evans 
strikingly exhibits his power of describing the common-place 
in language which is never for an instant common-place 
itseli—a power in which he has certainly never been sur- 
passed, and scarcely equalled, unless by Pope, who apparently 
was his model :— 
“So, filtered through yon flutterer’s folded mail, 
Clinzs the cooled wax, and hardens to a scale. 
Swift, at her well-known call, the ready train 
(For not a buzz boon Nature breathes in vain) 
