ON A BEE’S NEST.
FROM THE GREEK OF ANTIPHILUS.
O beautiful bee homestead,
With many a waxen cell,
Self-built—for hanging, so it seems—
That airy citadel!
An unbought blessing to man’s life,
Which neither plow nor hoe,
Nor axe nor crooked sickle,
Is needed to bestow;
A tiny vessel—and no more—
Wherein the busy bee
From its small body liquid sweets
Distilleth lavishly.
Rejoice, ye blessed creatures!
Regaling while ye rove,
Winged workers of nectareous food,
On all the flowers ye love.
Translation of John Wilson.