The Spider pretended to pity the Bee—
For a cunning old hypocrite spider was he—
"I'm sorry to see you so poorly," he said;
And he whispered his wife, "He will have to be bled."
V.
Tis true sir,"—the knave! every word is a lie—
"That rather than live so, 'twere better to die.
'Twere better to finish the thing, as you say,
Than to live till you're old, and die every day.
VI.
"The life that you lead, it may do very well
For the beaver's rude hut, or the honey bee's cell;
But it never would suit a gay fellow like me.
I love to be merry—I love to be free."
VII.
"In hoarding up riches you're wasting your time;
And—pray, sir, excuse me—such waste is a crime.
And then to be guilty of avarice, too!
Alas! how I pity such sinners as you!"
VIII.
Strange, strange that the Bee was so stupid and blind;
"Amen!" he exclaimed, "you have spoken my mind;
I've been very wicked, I know it, I feel it;
The bees have no right to their honey—they steal it.
IX.