TO A BEE.

1.

THOU wert out betimes, thou busy, busy Bee!
As abroad I took my early way,
Before the Cow from her resting-place
Had risen up and left her trace
On the meadow, with dew so gray,
Saw I thee, thou busy, busy Bee.

2.

Thou wert working late, thou busy, busy Bee!
After the fall of the Cistus flower,

When the Primrose-of-evening was ready to burst,
I heard thee last, as I saw thee first;
In the silence of the evening hour,
Heard I thee, thou busy, busy Bee.

3.

Thou art a miser, thou busy, busy Bee!
Late and early at employ ;

Still on thy golden stores intent,

Thy summer in heaping and hoarding is spent What thy winter will never enjoy ;

Wise lesson this for me, thou busy, busy Bee!

4.

Little dost thou think, thou busy, busy Bee! What is the end of thy toil.

When the latest flowers of the ivy are gone, And all thy work for the year is done, Thy master comes for the spoil.

Woe then for thee, thou busy, busy Bee!

Westbury, 1799.

TO A SPIDER,

1.

SPIDER thou need'st not run in fear about
To shun my curious eyes;

I won't humanely crush thy bowels out
Lest thou should'st eat the flies;
Nor will I roast thee with a damn'd delight
Thy strange instinctive fortitude to see,
For there is One who might
One day roast me.

2.

Thou art welcome to a Rhymer sore-perplext,
The subject of his verse;

There's many a one who on a better text
Perhaps might comment worse.

Then shrink not, old Free-Mason, from my view,
But quietly like me spin out the line;
Do thou thy work pursue

As I will mine.

3.

Weaver of snares, thou emblemest the ways Of Satan, Sire of lies;

Hell's huge black Spider, for mankind he lays His toils, as thou for flies.

When Betty's busy eye runs round the room, Woe to that nice geometry, if seen!

But where is he whose broom

The earth shall clean?

4.

Spider! of old thy flimsy webs were thought,
And 't was a likeness true,

To emblem laws in which the weak are caught,
But which the strong break through:
And if a victim in thy toils is ta’en,
Like some poor client is that wretched fly;
I'll warrant thee thou 'lt drain
His life-blood dry.

5.

And is not thy weak work like human schemes And care on earth employ'd?

Such are young hopes and Love's delightful dreams
So easily destroy'd!

So does the Statesman, whilst the Avengers sleep,
Self-deem'd secure, his wiles in secret lay,
Soon shall destruction sweep
His work away.

6.

Thou busy labourer! one resemblance more
May yet the verse prolong,

For, Spider, thou art like the Poet poor,
Whom thou hast help'd in song.
Both busily our needful food to win,
We work, as Nature taught, with ceaseless pains;
Thy bowels thou dost spin,
I spin my brains.

Westbury, 1798.

THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM.

The rage of Babylon is roused,

The King puts forth his strength;

And Judah bends the bow

And points her arrows for the coming war.

Her walls are firm, her gates are strong,
Her youth gird on the sword;

High are her chiefs in hope,

For soon will Egypt send the promised aid.

But who is he whose voice of woe

Is heard amid the streets?

Whose ominous voice proclaims

Her strength and arms and promised succours vain.

His meagre cheek is pale and sunk,

Wild is his hollow eye,

Yet aweful is its glance;

And who could bear the anger of his frown?

PROPHET of GOD! in vain thy lips

Proclaim the woe to come;

In vain thy warning voice

Summons her rulers timely to repent!