Death of Queen Caroline/The busy bee

THE BUSY BEE.

A buſy humble Bee am I.
⁠⁠⁠that range the garden funny;
⁠From flow'r to flow'r I changing fly,
⁠⁠⁠and every flower's my honey.
⁠⁠Bright Chloe, with her golden hair,
⁠⁠⁠a while my rich jonquile is,
Till cloy'd with ſipping Nectar there,
⁠⁠⁠I ſhift to roſy Phillis.
⁠⁠⁠⁠I ſhift, &c.

But Phillis's ſweet opening breaſt
⁠remains not long my ſtation,
For Kitty muſt be now addreſs’d,
⁠my ſpicy breath'd carnation.
Yet Kitty’s fragrant bed I leave,
⁠to other flow'rs I'm rover;
And all in turns my love receives
⁠the gay wide garden over.
⁠⁠The gay, &c.

Variety, that knows no bound,
⁠my roving fancy edges
And oft with Flora I am found
⁠in dalliance under hedges:
For as I am an arrant Bee,
⁠who range each bank that's ſunny,
Both fields and gardens are my fee,
⁠and ev'ry flower's my honey.
⁠⁠And every, &c.