Classic Poem

" NOW ," said the lazy Hen,' thou Bee,
One thing I must confess to thee:
Since first I knew thee, I have found
Thou nothing dost but gad around.
Thou think'st of nought but thy enjoyment;
For flying round o'er garden flowers,
To suck their juice in summer hours,
Can't be a very hard employment.
First on the gillyflower sit,
Then to the honeysuckle flit, —
If I were thou, I'd do so too;
But we have other work to do,
And far more useful occupation:
To store our dwelling over night
With new-laid eggs, so nice and white —
That is the duty of our station."

" Oh," cried the Bee, " mock not, I beg!
Thou think'st, because I, at my labors,
Scream not all day, to stun the neighbors,
As thou dost over every egg,
I must an idler be; come, then,
And let the bee-hive witness bear,
Which shows more skill, and toil, and care, —
The busy Bee or lazy Hen.
For, when we lie upon the flowers,
We are not thinking of ourselves,
But gathering honey for our shelves,
To sweeten other tongues than ours.
And if our work makes no great din,
And if, when we are bringing in
The nectar to the waxen cell,
In summer days, we do not yell,
As thou art pleased to on thy nest,
Till all is hoarse, — be this impressed
Upon thy mind, that empty pride
Is something we can ne'er abide;
And whoso would our merits know,
Must ask our works, and they shall show;
And in the honeycomb shall he
Find order, art and industry.
And Nature hath equipped us, too,
With a sharp sting, concealed from view,
Wherewith we sorely punish them
Who proudly censure and condemn
That of which they can nothing know —
So take my counsel, Hen, and go!"

Oh, scorner, who, with haughty mien,
In love with nought but self alone,
Makest a mock of Poesy,
Truth, in a figure, here is shown,
And wisdom in a fable seen.
The poet is the quiet bee, —
And wilt thou make thyself the hen?
Well doth the fable fit thee, then.
Thou ask'st, what use of poetry?
It brings no wealth, nor worth, nor wit.
But how canst thou so foolish be?
Thine own example teacheth thee
What mighty good may come of it:
For by it he who hath small brains,
Truth in an emblem ofttimes gains.