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The Wild Bee

The Wild Bee image
Parent Issue
Day
24
Month
July
Year
1874
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

I come at morn, when dewdrops bright Are twinkling on the grassen, And woo tho balmy breeze m flight ïhat o'er the heatlier passes. ■ ■ I swarm with many loathsome winps That jom me, through my rumble, In seeking for the honeyed thiuga Of heath and hawthorn bramble. Anrt languidly amidst the aedge, When nooutide is most stiily, I :oil oesirie the watei's edge, And climb iuto the lily. I fly throughout the clover crops Before the evening closes, Or swoon amid the amber drops That swells the pink moss-roses. At times I take a longer route, lu cooliug autumn weather, And gently murmur round about The purple-tiuted heather. To Poesy I am a friend ; 1 go with Faiicy iinking, Auii all my airy knowledge lend, To aid him in his thiukmg. Po in uot these little eyes are dim l'u every sense of duty ; We owe a certam debt to hirn , Who ciad this earth in beauty. And therefore I am never sad, A burdeu homeward bringing, But help to make the summer glad In my own way of eingiug. "When idlers xeek my honeyed wme, In n-autouness to drink it, I spark.e from the coiunibine, Like some torbiddeu tiiuket ; But never sting a friend- not oue- It is a weet delusiou, That I may look at cliildren run, Aud mile at their confusión. If I were a man, with all his tact And power of foreseeiug, I would not do a single act To uurt a humau boingAnd thus my little life is fixed, TUI trauquiily it closes, For wistly have I choseu 'twixt The tliorns and the rose.

Article

Subjects
Old News
Michigan Argus