346 The Honey-Makers 



To which the jovial Prince replies, — 



" As the honey, of Hybla, my old lad of the castle." 



In Tennyson's " Foresters " when Robin offers to caress 

 her, Marian says, — 



" Quiet, good Robin, quiet ! 

 You lovers are such clumsy summer-flies, 

 For ever buzzing at your lady's face.'' 



To which Robin gallantly replies, — 



" Bees, rather, flying to the flowers for honey." 



Upon which, to her lover's displeasure, Marian sings, — 



" The bee buzz'd up in the heat. 

 ' I am fain for your honey, my sweet.' 

 The flower said, ' Take it, my dear, 

 For now is the spring of the year. 

 So come, come I ' 

 ' Hum ! ' 

 And the bee buzz'd down from the heat. * 



And the bee buzz'd up in the cold 

 When the flower was wither'd and old. 

 ' Have you still any honey, my dear ? ' 

 She said, ' It 's the fall of the year, 

 But come, come ! ' 

 ' Hum I ' 

 And the bee buzz'd off in the cold." 



Jean Ingelow has given us a dainty picture of two 

 lovers : — 



" An empty sky, a world of heather. 



Purple of foxgloves, yellow of broom ; 

 We two among them, wading together, 

 Shaking out honey, treading perfume." 



We remember Anacreon's pretty conceit about Love 

 and the bee-sting, and we find Lessing in one of his poems 



