And beds of violets drink at will the wave.
Alike, if hollow cork their fabric form,
Or flexile twigs inclose the settled swarm;
With narrow entrance guard the shelter’d cell,
And summer suns and winter blasts repel.
Dire each extreme; or winter cakes with cold,
Or summer melts the comb to fluid gold.
Hence not in vain the bees their domes prepare,
And smear the chinks that open to the air;
With flowers and fucus close each pervious pore