THE BEES AND TIIE POETS. 
77 
To watch thee pause to chafe thy feet, 
And sweep them o’er thy downy sides: 
Now in a flower-bell nestling lie, 
And all thy busiest ardor ply; 
Then o’er the stem, though fair it grow, 
With touch rejected, glance and go. 
“ 0 Nature kind! O laborer wise, 
That roam’st along the summer ray, 
Glean’st every bliss thy life supplies, 
And meet’st prepared thy wintry day. 
Go, envied, go; with crowded gates 
The hive thy rich return awaits: 
Bear home thy store in triumph gay, 
And shame each idler on thy way ! ” 
