Ten sounded from the old church tower—
Before the last stroke of the hour,
Close by the bee-house Richard Dean,
His last new coat on, might be seen;
Christine, arrayed in all her charms,
Was there, and rushed into his arms.
"Hist! what's that sound?" alack! alack!
A thief, with crotchet at his back—
A Honey thief—ill may he thrive.
Each crept into a monster hive.
The thief peered round; "This will I take"—
"This big one will my fortune make."