Because, invited by the timbrel's found,

Lodg'd in a cave th' almighty babe they found,
And the young god nurft kindly under-ground.
Of all the wing'd inhabitants of air,
Thefe only make their young the public care;
In well-difpos'd focieties they live,

And laws and ftatutes regulate their hive;
Nor ftray, like others, unconfin'd abroad,

But know fet ftations, and a fix'd abode :
Each provident of cold in fummer flies

Thro' fields, and woods, to feek for new fupplies,
And in the common stock unlades his thighs.

Some watch the food, fome in the meadows ply,
Tafte ev'ry bud, and fuck each blossom dry;

Whilft others, lab'ring in their cells at home,
Temper Narciffus' clammy tears with gum,
For the firft ground-work of the golden comb;
On this they found their waxen works, and raise
The yellow fabrick to its glewy base.

Some educate the youth, or hatch the feed

With vital warmth, and future nations breed;

Whilft others thicken all the flimy dews,

And into pureft honey work the juice;
They fill the hollows of the comb, and swell

With luscious nectar ev'ry flowing cell.

}

}

}

By

By turns they watch, by turns with curious eyes
Survey the heav'ns, and fearch the clouded skies

To findout breeding storms, and tell what tempefts rife.
By turns they ease the loaded fwarms or drive
The drone, a lazy infect, from their hive.

The work is warmly ply'd through'all the cells,

And strong with thyme the new-made honey smells.
So in their caves the brawny Cyclops fweat,
When with huge ftrokes the ftubborn wedge they beat,
And all th' unhapen thunder-bolt compleat;
Alternately their hammers rife and fall;

Whilft griping tongs turn round the glowing ball..
With puffing bellows fome the flames increase,

And fome in waters dip the hiffing mafs;
Their beaten anvils dreadfully refound,

And Ætna shakes all o'er, and thunders under ground.
Thus, if great things we may with small compare,
The bufy fwarms their diff'rent labours fhare.
Defire of profit urges all degrees;

The aged infects, by experience wise,

}

Attend the comb, and fashion ev'ry part,

And shape the waxen fret-work out with art:

The young at night, returning from their toils,

Bring home their thighs clog'd with the meadows fpoils.
On Lavender, and faffron-buds they feed,

On bending ofiers, and the balmy reed,

From

From purple violets and the teile they bring
Their gather'd sweets, and rifle all the spring.

All work together, all together rest.
The morning ftill renews their labours past;
Then all rush out, their diffrent tasks pursue,
Sit on the bloom, and fuck the rip'ning dew;
Again when evening warns 'em to their home,
With weary wings and heavy thighs they come,
And crowd about the chink, and mix a drowsy hum.
Into their cells at length they gently creep,
There all the night their peaceful station keep,
Wrapt up in filence, and diffolv'd in fleep.
None range abroad when winds and storms are nigh,
Nor truft their bodies to a faithless sky,

But make small journeys, with a careful wing,
And fly to water at a neighb'ring spring;
And left their airy bodies fhould be caft
In restless whirls, the sport of ev'ry blast,
They carry ftones to poife 'em in their flight,
As ballaft keeps th' unsteady vessel right.

But of all customs that the bees can boaft,
'Tis this may challenge admiration moft;
That none will Hymen's fofter joys approve,
Nor waste their spirits in luxurious love,

But all a long virginity maintain,

And bring forth young without a mother's pain.

From

From herbs and flow'rs they pick each tender bee,
And cull from plants a buzzing progeny ;

From these they choose out fubjects, and create

A little monarch of a rifing state;

Then build wax-kingdoms for the infant prince,
And form a palace for his refidence.

But often in their journeys, as they fly,
On flints they tear their filken wings, or lie
Grov'ling beneath their flow'ry load, and die.
Thus love of honey can an infect fire,
And in a fly fuch generous thoughts infpire.
Yet by repeopling their decaying state,

Tho' fev'n fhort springs conclude their vital date,
Their ancient stocks eternally remain,

And in an endless race their childrens children reign.
No proftrate vaffal of the east can more

With flavish fear his mighty Prince adore;
His life unites 'em all; but when he dies,

All in loud tumults and diftraction rife;

They waste their honey, and their combs deface,
And wild confufion reigns in ev'ry place.

Him all admire, all the great guardian own,

And crowd about his courts, and buzz about his throne.
Oft on their backs their weary prince they bear,
Oft in his caufe embattled in the air,

Purfue a glorious death, in wounds and war.

}

}

Some

Some from fuch inftances as thefe have taught "The bees extract is heav'nly; for they thought "The universe alive; and that a foul,

"Diffus'd throughout the matter of the whole, "To all the vast unbounded frame was given,

"And ran thro' earth, and air, and fea, and all the deeps of "That this firft kindled life in man and beast,

"Life that again flows into this at last.
"That no compounded animal could die,
"But when diffolv'd the spirit mounted high,
"Dwelt in a ftar, and settled in the sky."

[heav'n;

When e'er their balmy sweets you mean to feize, And take the liquid labours of the bees,

Spurt draughts of water from your mouth, and drive A loathfome cloud of fmoke amidst their hive.

Twice in the year their flow'ry toils begin,
And twice they fetch their dewy harvest in;
Once when the lovely Pleiades arise,

And add fresh luftre to the fummer skies:
And once when haft'ning from the watry fign
They quit their ftation, and forbear to fhine.
The bees are prone to rage, and often found
To perish for
revenge, and die upon the wound.
Their venom'd fting produces aking pains,

And fwells the flesh, and shoots among the veins.

When first a cold hard winter's ftorms arrive,

And threaten death or famine to their hive,

}