 | From the Hills of Dream |  |
141
The Wild Bees.
There was a man, seeking PeaceThere was a man, seeking Peace, who found a precious treasure in the heather, when the bells were sweet with honey-ooze. Did the wild bees know of it? Would that I could hear the soft hum of their gauzy wings.
Where blooms that heather, and what wind is it that moveth the bells that are sweet with the honey-ooze? Only the wild bees know of it; but I think they must be the bees of Magh-Mell, the bees that make a sweet sound in the drowsy ears of those who beneath the heather have indeed found rest by the dim waysides of Peace.
| From the Hills of Dream | |