The Bee
Oh! busy bee,
On wing so free,
Yet all in order true;
Each seems to know,
Both where to go,
And what it has to do.
‘Mid summer heat,
The honey sweet,
It gathers while it may;
In tiny drops,
And never stops
To waste its time in play.
I hear it come,
I know its hum;
It flies from flower to flower;
And to its store,
A little more
It adds, each day and hour.
– Chatterbox Stories of Natural History by Anonymous
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