The Humble-Bee
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique
Far-off heats through seas to seek；
I will follow thee alone
Thou animated torrid-zone！
Zigzag steerer desert cheerer
Let me chase thy waving lines；
Keep me nearer me thy hearer
Singing over shrubs and vines.
Insect lover of the sun
Joy of thy dominion！
Sailor of the atmosphere；
Swimmer through the waves of air；
Voyager of light and noon；
Epicurean of June；
Wait I prithee till I come
Within earshot of thy hum —
All without is martyrdom.
When the south wind in May days
With a net of shining haze
Silvers the horizon wall
And with softness touching all
Tints the human countenance
With a color of romance
And infusing subtle heats
Turns the sod to violets
Thou in sunny solitudes
Rover of the underwoods
The green silence dost displace
With thy mellow breezy bass.
Hot midsummer's petted crone
Sweet to me thy drowsy tone
Tells of countless sunny hours
Long days and solid banks of flowers；
Of gulfs of sweetness without bound
In Indian wildernesses found；
Of Syrian peace immortal leisure
Firmest cheer and bird-like pleasure.
Aught unsavory or unclean
Hath my insect never seen；
But violets and bilberry bells
Maple-sap and daffodels
Grass with green flag half-mast high
Succory to match the sky
Columbine with horn of honey
Scented fern and agrimony
Clover catchfly adder's-tongue
And brier-roses dwelt among；
All beside was unknown waste
All was picture as he passed.
Wiser far than human seer
blue-breeched philosopher！
Seeing only what is fair
Sipping only what is sweet
Thou dost mock at fate and care
Leave the chaff and take the wheat.
When the fierce northwestern blast
Cools sea and land so far and fast
Thou already slumberest deep；
Woe and want thou canst outsleep；
Want and woe which torture us
Thy sleep makes ridiculous.