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,