THE ANTHERS.

Anthers, anthers, full of pollen,

Cunning cupboards of the bee,

Stamen flour amply hiding,

What have you for me, for me?

What have you for me?

Pollen have I, plenty of it,

Pollen for my darling bee;

Pollen every day I blossom

For my bee, but none for thee,

For thee, none for thee.