Here's sufficient and to spare.
How they dart and how they hurtle
Through the genial balmy air!
To the mountains—to the meadows—
'Tis the scent attracts them there!
There they dexterously rifle
Nectar from each flow'r in bloom;
Toil they for our honey harvest,
For us fill the honey-room.
Yes, our bees, our precious darlings.