With all their sweetness, all their rapture keen;

And isn't this a pretty little thing

To set before the Queen?

The money-counting monarch—sordid man!—

His wife, who robbed the little busy bees,

I disregard. In fact a poet can

But pity folks like these.

The maid was in the garden. Happy maid!

Her choice entitles her to rank above

Master and Mistress. Gladly she surveyed