I love to be idle—I love to be free.
VII.
"This hoarding of riches—this wasting of time,
In robbing the gardens and fields—'tis a crime!
And then to be guilty of suicide, too!
I tremble to think what a miser will do."
VIII.
'Tis strange the poor Bee was so stupid and blind.
"Mister Spider," said he, "you have spoken my mind;
There's something within me that seems to say,