 | Lauds |  |
36
THE ABBOT'S BEES
In the warm garden to and fro
Goes Father Abbot, old and slow,
And reads his breviary, lifting oft
His mild eyes to the blue aloft.
Goes Father Abbot, old and slow,
And reads his breviary, lifting oft
His mild eyes to the blue aloft.
He lays his finger in the page,
Sniffs at the sweets of thyme and sage,
Pauses beside the lavender
Where bees hum in the scented air.
Sniffs at the sweets of thyme and sage,
Pauses beside the lavender
Where bees hum in the scented air.
Close by in the midsummer day
His bearded monks are making hay,
Murmuring as they pass each other,
“Praise be to Jesu!” “Amen, brother!”
His bearded monks are making hay,
Murmuring as they pass each other,
“Praise be to Jesu!” “Amen, brother!”
The bees hum o'er the mignonette
And the white clover, still dew-wet,
And in a velvet troop together
Fly off to rifle the sweet heather.
And the white clover, still dew-wet,
And in a velvet troop together
Fly off to rifle the sweet heather.
The air is full of sleepiness,
The drone of insects and the bees;
The summer day nods unawares
As an old monk might at his prayers.
The drone of insects and the bees;
The summer day nods unawares
As an old monk might at his prayers.
37
The windows of the novitiate
Are open ever early and late;
And hear the voices like the hum
The bees make in the honeycomb!
Are open ever early and late;
And hear the voices like the hum
The bees make in the honeycomb!
The tall lads innocent and meek,
Gabble the Latin and the Greek.
“Now hear my bees in the clover-blooms!”
He saith to the old monk who comes.
Gabble the Latin and the Greek.
“Now hear my bees in the clover-blooms!”
He saith to the old monk who comes.
“Do you not hear them, Brother Giles?”
Listening with sidelong head he smiles.
“Giles, do you hear the novices,
That are the Lord's bees and my bees?
Listening with sidelong head he smiles.
“Giles, do you hear the novices,
That are the Lord's bees and my bees?
“Giles, do you hear them making honey
All through the scented hours and sunny?
They will make honey many a day
When you and I are lapped in clay.”
All through the scented hours and sunny?
They will make honey many a day
When you and I are lapped in clay.”
As though he heard the sweetest strain,
He smiles and listens, smiles again.
Monks in the meadow pass each other:
“Praise be to Jesu!” “Amen, brother.”
He smiles and listens, smiles again.
Monks in the meadow pass each other:
“Praise be to Jesu!” “Amen, brother.”
| Lauds | |