Go, while the summer suns are bright, <br />Take at large thy wandering flight, <br />Go, and load thy tiny feet <br />With every rich and various sweet; <br />Cling around the flowering thorn, <br />Dive in the woodbine's honey'd horn, <br />Seek the wild rose that shades the dell, <br />Explore the foxglove's freckled bell; <br />Or in the heath-flower's fairy cup, <br />Drink the fragrant spirit up, <br />But when the meadows shall be mown, <br />And summer's garlands overblown, <br />Then come, thou little busy bee, <br />And let thy homestead be with me:- <br />There, shelter'd by the straw-built hive, <br />In my garden thou shalt live, <br />And that garden shall supply <br />Thy delicious alchymy;- <br />There, for thee, in autumn, blows <br />The Indian pink and latest rose, <br />The mignonette perfumes the air, <br />And stocks, unfading flowers, are there. <br /> <br />Yet fear not when the tempests come, <br />And drive thee to thy waxen home, <br />That I shall then, most treacherously, <br />For thy honey murder thee:- <br />Oh, no! -throughout the winter drear <br />I'll feed thee, that another year <br />Thou may'st renew thy industry <br />Among the flowers, thou busy bee.<br /><br />Charlotte Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bee-s-winter-retreat/
