 | Hagar |  |
THE BELATED BEE.
'Twas in the early morningBefore the sun was up;
The humble bee was sleeping
In the lily's pearly cup.
He dreamed of morning glories,
With all their color spread,
Red, white and blue they floated
Above his sleepy head.
And ever seemed they calling:
“O rouse thee, laggard bee,
The morning hours are waning;
And we wait in vain for thee,”
A sunbeam kissed the lily,
And made her still more fair;
The bee awoke, and buzzing
Flew out to take the air.
The sun shone on the trellis,
Where waved the flowers of morn;
But folded were their banners,
And all their glories shorn.
O like some warrior mighty,
178
The humble bee came flying,
Right eager for the fray;
And like a morning glory
With all her colors torn,
The bee went home, a sadder
And wiser bee that morn.
| Hagar | |