Now while th' aerial honey's nectar dews,
Gift of a God, once more, invite the Muse..
Mæcenas! yet again, with fond regard
Crown the long labours of thy votive bard.
Worthy of wonder, here at large I trace
Th' unfolded genius of the insect race,
Their chiefs illustrious, and th' embattled field,
Manners and arts that peaceful studies yield.
The lowly theme shall claim no vulgar praise,
If Phoebus deign to hear th' invoking lays.
First, seek a station where no ruthless gale
Dares the still hive and shelter'd bees assail :
Lest, as they homeward droop, o'erdone with toil,
Inclement blasts their loaded flight despoil;
Far from the sheep that wasted earth devour,
The wanton kids that bound from flower to flower,
Heifers whose roving steps the meadow bruise,
And dash from springing herbs nectareous dews.
There let no lizard arm'd with burnish'd scale,
Merops or bird of prey their walls assail,
Nor Procne haunt, whose conscious plumes attest
The blood-stain'd hand imprinted on her breast.
These widely waste, and, seiz'd upon the wing,
To feed their nests the bee in triumph bring.
But there let pools invite with moss array'd,
Clear fount and rill that purls along the glade,
Palms o'er their porch a grateful gloom extend,
And the wild olive's sheltering boughs defend.
There when new kings the swarms at springtide lead,
And bursting myriads gladden all the mead,
Dim banks at noon may lure to cool repose,
And trees with hospitable arms enclose.
If sleep the stagnant pools, or currents flow,
Huge stones and willows 'mid the water throw;
That if a breeze across their passage sweep,
And headlong drive the loiterer to the deep,
On many a bridge the bee may safely stand,
And his wet plumes to summer suns expand.
There all her sweets let savoury exhale,
Thyme breathe her soul of fragrance on the gale,
In dulcet streams her roots green cassia lave,
And beds of violets drink at will the wave.
Alike, if hollow cork their fabric form, ·
Or flexile twigs enclose the settled swarm,
With narrow entrance guard the shelter'd cell,
And summer suns and wintry blasts repel..
Dire each extreme: or winter cakes with cold,
Or summer melts the comb to fluid gold.
Hence not in vain the bees their domes prepare,
And smear the chinks that open to the air,
With flowers and fucus close each pervious pore,
With wax cement, and thicken o'er and o'er.
Stor'd for this use they hive the clammy dew,
And load their garners with tenacious glue,
As birdlime thick, or pitch that slow distils
In loitering drops on Ida's pine-crown'd hills.
And oft ('tis said) they delve beneath the earth,
And nurse in gloomy caves their hidden birth,
Amid the crumbling stone's dark concave dwell,
Or hang in hollow trees their airy cell.
Thou aid their toil! with mud their walls o'erlay,
And lightly shade the roof with leafy spray.
There let no yew its baleful shadow cast,
Nor crabs on glowing embers taint the blast
Far from their roof deep fens that poison breathe,
Thick fogs that float from beds of mud beneath,
Caves from whose depth redoubled echoes rise,
And rock to rock in circling shout replies.
Now when the sun beneath the realms of night
Dark winter drives, and robes the heavens with light,
The bees o'er hill and dale, from flower to flower,
In grove and lawn the purple spring devour,
Sip on the wing, and lightly brushing lave
Their airy plumage in th' undimpled wave.
Hence with unusual joy in fondling mood
Cling to their nests, and rear their cherish'd brood,
With wondrous art their waxen toil renew,
And thicken, as they hive, the honied dew..
Lo! from their cells when swarms through æther stream,
And float at noon along the liquid beam,
And on the breeze that rings beneath their flight
Draw out in darkling clouds their airy height,
Observe them as they wind aloft their way,
Where groves o'ershade, and crystal fountains play : There strow each rifled herb that breathes of spring, 'There the bruis'd baum and honey-suckle fling;
And tinklings raise, while echo rings around,
And Cybele's tost cymbals shrilly sound.
Soon shall they haunt the medicated seat,
And to their inmost cells unseen retreat.
But if impending feuds the hive alarm,
When doubtful kings the frantic nation arm,
Tumultuous crowds the dread event prepare,
And palpitating hearts that beat to war;
Deep brazen peals the lingering crowds excite,
And harsh the voice like trumpets hoarse in fight.
Onward they troop, and, brandishing their wings,
Fit their fierce claws, and point their poison'd stings;
Throng to th' imperial tent, their king surround,
Provoke the foe, and loud defiance sound.
At length when spring expands th' unclouded day,
Through opening portals bursts their wing d array ;
Fierce clash the clustering orbs, air rings around,
Prone from the conflict myriads strow the ground,
Thick as tempestuous hail from summer showers,
Or streaming acorns dash'd from oaken bowers.
Amid the press of war, th' encountering kings,
Mark'd by the pomp and spreading of their wings,
While boundless souls their little bosoms swell,
To deeds of glory either host impel;
Fiercely they fight, unknowing how to yield,
Till force resistless drive them from the field.
Yet at thy will these dreadful conflicts cease,
Throw but a little dust, and all is peace.
But when the leaders at thy voice recede,
Slay the weak rebel! bid th' usurper bleed !
Slay, ere he waste the hive. Defend the throne,
And let the rightful monarch reign alone.
Doubt you the sov'reign? lo! his golden mail,
His stately port, and brightly burnish'd scale;
The vile usurper 'mid a kindred throng
Scarce trails his loathsome breadth of paunch along.
Such as their kings, the two-fold nation view,
These base, of aspect rough, and squalid hue,
Like the tir'd wretch in summer's sultry day
That spits with fiery lip the dust away :
These gaily shine, all-glorious to behold,
Spangled with equal spots, and dropt with gold.
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