 | Poems |  |
YOU ARE A PREACHER, BEE.
Bee—bee,
You are a preacher, bee—
Roamer of sunshine, as by me you flew,
Plundering my garden flowers,
Through the blue summer hours,
Wisdom I gathered, O brown one, from you,
And this I heard you say,
Taste sweets ere they're away,
Store sweets for winter days, when they are few.
You are a preacher, bee—
Roamer of sunshine, as by me you flew,
Plundering my garden flowers,
Through the blue summer hours,
Wisdom I gathered, O brown one, from you,
And this I heard you say,
Taste sweets ere they're away,
Store sweets for winter days, when they are few.
Boom—boom,
Bee, on from bloom to bloom,
Short is the summer, and winter must come;
Flowers will soon have passed,
Honey lay up to last,
When blooms are withered and thrushes are dumb!
This that is wise for you,
This is my wisdom, too,
This is the teaching I heard in your hum.
Bee, on from bloom to bloom,
Short is the summer, and winter must come;
Flowers will soon have passed,
Honey lay up to last,
When blooms are withered and thrushes are dumb!
This that is wise for you,
This is my wisdom, too,
This is the teaching I heard in your hum.
| Poems | |