I sail by the trees and around the flowers;
I love the sun and hate the showers.
I have a taste does credit to me;
I never eat bread and such fiddle-dee-dee.
For honey and pollen’s the sensible food;
They favor digestion and suit the mood.
I sleep in my nest all winter long,
But rush fearlessly forth in the March wind’s song,
For I’m sure there’s some one waiting for me,