IT was a time when silly bees could speak, And in that time I was a silly bee, Who fed on thyme until my heart 'gan break, Yet never found the time would favour me. Of all the swarm, I only did not thrive, Yet brought I wax and honey to the hive. Then thus I buzzed, when time no sap would give, Why should this blessèd thyme to me be dry, Sith by this thyme, the lazy drone doth live, The wasp, the worm, the gnat, the butterfly; Mated with grief, I kneeled on my knees, And thus complained unto the king of bees. 'My liege, gods grant thy time may never end, And yet, vouchsafe to hear my plaint of thyme, Which fruitless flies have found to have a friend, And I cast down, when atomies do climb.' The king replied but thus; 'Peace, peevish bee, Thou 'rt bound to serve the time, the time not thee.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 20 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON FEARS IN SOLITUDE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX [APRIL 9, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE THREE BLIND MICE by MOTHER GOOSE THE VIERZIDE CHAIRS by WILLIAM BARNES TO SIR JOHN SPENSER KNIGHTE, ALDERMAN OF LONDON by RICHARD BARNFIELD |