Bee-hunting.
211
Then rush in for the plunder;
Dripping from comb and chip;
Clear as sunlight shining,
It drops from the waxen lining,
Sugar that needs no fining,
Fit for a woman's lip.
Dripping from comb and chip;
Clear as sunlight shining,
It drops from the waxen lining,
Sugar that needs no fining,
Fit for a woman's lip.
Heap it in pail and kettle,
Never go off with a little,
Quick! or the bees will settle
On something beside the trees.
Off with the stolen treasure!
The bears may take their pleasure,
Where we have left good measure
For them and the drowsy bees.
Never go off with a little,
Quick! or the bees will settle
On something beside the trees.
Off with the stolen treasure!
The bears may take their pleasure,
Where we have left good measure
For them and the drowsy bees.
When the sky is red and hazy,
And the winds are warm and lazy,
And the blackbirds chatter crazy,
Hurrah for the forest free!
The Summer days are over,
But we get the best of the clover,
Where the honey-birds call and hover:
Out of a hollow tree:
And the winds are warm and lazy,
And the blackbirds chatter crazy,
Hurrah for the forest free!
The Summer days are over,
But we get the best of the clover,
Where the honey-birds call and hover:
Out of a hollow tree:
