Whilft others thicken all the flimy dews,
And into pureft honey work the juice;
Then fill the hollows of the comb, and fwell
With luscious nectar every flowing cell
By turns they watch, by turns with curious eyes
Survey the heavens, and fearch the clouded skies
To find out breeding storms, and tell what tempests rise.
By turns they ease the loaden swarms, 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' unshapen 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 hifling 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 different labours share.
Defire of profit urges all degrees;
The aged infects, by experience wise,
Attend the comb, and fashion every 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 offers, and the balmy reed :
From purple violets and the teile they bring
Their gather'd fweets, and rifle all the fpring.
All work together, all together reft.
The morning ftill renews their labours past;
Then air rush out, their different tasks pursue,
Sit on the bloom, and fuck the ripening dew;
Again when evening warns them 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 sleep.
None range abroad when winds and ftorms are nigh,,
Nor truft their bodies to a faithless sky,
But make small journeys, with a careful wing,.
And fly to water at a neighbouring spring;
And, left their airy bodies fhould be caft
In reftlefs whirls, the sport of every blast,
They carry ftones to poise them in their flight,
As ballaft keeps th' unsteady vessel right.
But of all customs that the bees can boaft,
'Tis this may challenge admiration most;
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 herbs and flowers they pick each tender bec,
And cull from plants a buzzing progeny ;
From these they choose out fubjects, and create
A little monarch of the rifing state;
Then build wax kingdoms for the infant prince,.
And form a palace for his residence.
But often in their journeys, as they fly,
On flints they tear their filken wings, or lie
Groveling beneath their flowery load, and die.
Thus love of honey can an infect fire,
And in a fly fuch generous thoughts infpire.
Yet by repcopling their decaying state,
Though seven short springs conclude their vital date,
Their ancient stocks eternally remain,
And in an endless race their childrens children reign.
No proftrate vaffal of the Eaft can more
With flavish fear his mighty Prince adore;
His life unites them all; but when he dies,
All in loud tumults and diftractions rife;
They waste their honey, and their combs deface,
And wild confufion reigns in every 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 from fuch inftances as these have taught, "The bees extract is heavenly; for they thought "The univerfe alive; and that a foul,
"Diffus'd throughout the matter of the whole, "To all the vaft unbounded frame was given,
"And ran through earth, and air, and fea, and all "the deep of heaven;
"That this firft kindled life in man and beaft,
"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 fettled in the sky."
When-e'er their balmy fweets you mean to feize, And take the liquid labours of the bees,
Spurt draughts of water from your mouth, and drive
A lothfome cloud of smoke amidst their hive.
Twice in the year their flowery toils begin,
And twice they fetch their dewy harvest in ;
Once when the lovely Pleiades arise,
And add fresh luftre to the fummer fkies :
And once when haftening from the watery fign
They quit their station, 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 fhoots among the veins.
When firft a cold hard winter's ftorms arrive,
And threaten death or famine to their hive,
If now their finking state and low affairs
Can move your pity, and provoke your cares,
Fresh burning thyme before their cells convey,
And cut their dry and husky wax away;
For often lizards feize the lufcious fpoils,
Or drones that riot on another's toils:
Oft broods of moths infeft the hungry fwarms,
And oft the furious wafp their hive alarms
With louder hums, and with unequal arms;
Or else the spider at the entrance fets
Her fnares, and spins her bowels into nets.
When fickness reigns (for they as well as we
Feel all th' effects of frail mortality)
By certain marks the new disease is seen,
Their colour changes, and their looks are thin,
Their funeral rites are form'd, and every bee
With grief attends the fad folemnity;
The few difeas'd furvivors hang before
Their fickly cells, and droop about the door,
Or flowly in their hives their limbs unfold,
Shrunk up with hunger, and benumb'd with cold; :
In drawling hums the feeble infects grieve,
And doleful buzzes echo through the hive,
Like winds that foftly murmur through the trees,
Like flames pent.up, or like retiring feas.
Now lay fresh honey near their empty rooms,
In troughs of hollow reeds, whilft frying gums
Caft round a fragrant mift of spicy fumes.
Thus kindly tempt the famish'd fwarm to eat,
And gently reconcile them to their meat.
Mix juice of galls, and wine, that grow in time.
Condens'd by fire, and thicken to a slime;
To these dry'd roses, thyme, and centaury join,
And raifins ripen'd on the Pfythian vine.
Befides there grows a flower in marshy ground,
Its name Amellus, easy to be found;
A mighty fpring works in its root, and cleaves
The fprouting ftalk, and fhews itself in leaves;.
The flower itself is of a golden hue,
The leaves inclining to a darker blue;
The leaves fhoot thick about the flower, and grow
Into a bush, and fhade the turf below:
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