93. The Captive Bee; Or, the Little Filcher
As Julia once a-slumb’ring lay,It chanced a bee did fly that way,After a dew, or dew-like shower,To tipple freely in a flower;For some rich flower, he took the lipOf Julia, and began to sip;But when he felt he suck’d from thenceHoney, and in the quintessence,He drank so much he scarce could stir;So Julia took the pilferer.And thus surprised, as filchers use,He thus began himself t’excuse:‘Sweet lady-flower, I never broughtHither the least one thieving thought;But taking those rare lips of yoursFor some fresh, fragrant, luscious flowers,I thought I might there take a taste,Where so much sirup ran at waste.Besides, know this, I never stingThe flower that gives me nourishing;But with a kiss, or thanks, do payFor honey that I bear away.’—This said, he laid his little scripOf honey ‘fore her ladyship,And told her, as some tears did fall,That, that he took, and that was all.At which she smiled, and bade him goAnd take his bag; but thus much know,When next he came a-pilfering so,He should from her full lips deriveHoney enough to fill his hive.