'Tis May the first, the Queen bee's fête!
And she, in all her regal state,
Beneath her fairy hall of roses
With her beloved drone reposes.
She nods a sign; the bombardier
Awakes the echoes far and near.
Whilst tinkle, tinkle, clang! clang! bang!
The Court musicians' strain out-rang.
The fly he blows the shrill trompette,
The gnat the softer clarionette;
The grasshopper, a fiddler he—
The drummer is the bumble bee.—
The Willow-beetle, such a swell,
With young Sabina waltzes well;