THE BEE AND THE FLOWER.
The bee buzz’d up in the heat.“I am faint for your honey, my sweet.”The flower said, “Take it, my dear;For now is the spring of the year.So come, come!”“Hum!”And the bee buzz’d down from the heat.And the bee buzz’d up in the coldWhen the flower was withered and old.“Have you still any honey, my dear?”She said, “It’s the fall of the year,But come, come!”“Hum!”And the bee buzzed off in the cold.
The bee buzz’d up in the heat.“I am faint for your honey, my sweet.”The flower said, “Take it, my dear;For now is the spring of the year.So come, come!”“Hum!”And the bee buzz’d down from the heat.And the bee buzz’d up in the coldWhen the flower was withered and old.“Have you still any honey, my dear?”She said, “It’s the fall of the year,But come, come!”“Hum!”And the bee buzzed off in the cold.
The bee buzz’d up in the heat.“I am faint for your honey, my sweet.”The flower said, “Take it, my dear;For now is the spring of the year.So come, come!”“Hum!”And the bee buzz’d down from the heat.
The bee buzz’d up in the heat.
“I am faint for your honey, my sweet.”
The flower said, “Take it, my dear;
For now is the spring of the year.
So come, come!”
“Hum!”
And the bee buzz’d down from the heat.
And the bee buzz’d up in the coldWhen the flower was withered and old.“Have you still any honey, my dear?”She said, “It’s the fall of the year,But come, come!”“Hum!”And the bee buzzed off in the cold.
And the bee buzz’d up in the cold
When the flower was withered and old.
“Have you still any honey, my dear?”
She said, “It’s the fall of the year,
But come, come!”
“Hum!”
And the bee buzzed off in the cold.
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson.