And color the eastern sky
With its blended hues of saffron and lake;
Then say to each other, "Awake! awake!
For our winter's honey is all to make,
And our bread for a long supply!"
Then off we hie to the hill and the dell—
To the field, the meadow, and bower:
In the columbine's horn we love to dwell,—
To dip in the lily with snow-white bell,—
To search the balm in its odorous cell,