With wax cement, and thicken o’er and o’er.
Stor’d for this use they hive the clammy dew,
And load their garners with tenacious glue,
As birdlime thick, or pitch that slow distils
In loitering drops on Ida’s pine-crowned hills
And oft, ’tis said, they delve beneath the earth,
And nurse in gloomy caves their hidden birth,
Amid the crumbling stone’s dark concave dwell,
Or hang in hollow trees their airy cell.
Thou aid their toil! with mud their walls o’erlay,