In sparkling dews of meadows set,
With patient labor do I strive
To fill the hive,
Alas! too often plundered, when
Espied by all-devouring men.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
But lo! whom see I lurking here?
The form of man, whom much I fear.
Buz—z—z—z—z!
Let me prepare my angry sting