Such a pernicious torment is;
Come, tell me then, how great’s the smart
Of those thou woundest with thy dart?’
The Captive Bee, or the Little Filcher, is his own.
‘As Julia once a slumbering lay,
It chanced a bee did fly that way,
After a dew or dew-like show’r,
To tipple freely in a flow’r.
For some rich flow’r he took the lip
Of Julia, and began to sip: