So, fame to the man
Who the building began,
Whose model all nations will take
When kingdoms are fled,
Standing armies are dead,
And monarchs—no longer awake.
[195] From the edition of 1809.
ON A HONEY BEE
Drinking from a Glass of Wine and Drowned Therein[196]
(By Hezekiah Salem.)
Thou, born to sip the lake or spring,
Or quaff the waters of the stream,
Why hither come on vagrant wing?—
Does Bacchus tempting seem—
Did he, for you, this glass prepare?—
Will I admit you to a share?
Did storms harass or foes perplex,
Did wasps or king-birds bring dismay—
Did wars distress, or labours vex,
Or did you miss your way?—
A better seat you could not take
Than on the margin of this lake.
Welcome!—I hail you to my glass:
All welcome, here, you find;
Here, let the cloud of trouble pass,
Here, be all care resigned.—
This fluid never fails to please,
And drown the griefs of men or bees.