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SONG OF THE HIVE BEE. 
I have come from the banks 
where the violets bloom, 
And the primroses peep 
*neath the long yellow broom. 
And the blue-bells are ringing 
soft peals to the breeze. 
As it scatters among them 
bright drops from the trees $ 
Where the woodbine is wreathing 
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her light pendant bowers, 
And the white-breasted hawthorn 
is lavish of flowers. 
And the wild rose is blushing 
all lovely to view* 
I kiss’d it this morning 
while bathed in the dew# 
