Their short proboscis sips.

No luscious nectar from the wild thyme's lips;

From the lime leaf no amber drops they steal.

Not bear their grooveless thighs the foodful meal:

On others' toils in pampered leisure thrive,

The lazy fathers of the industrious hive;

Yet oft, we're told, these seeming idlers share

The pleasing duties of parental care;

With fond attention guard each genial cell,

And watch the embryo bursting from the shell.