"O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells." - Helen Hunt Jackson (Helen Hunt), My Bees
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers. - John Keats (1)
Listen! O, listen! Here come the hum the golden bees Underneath full blossomed trees, At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned. - James Russell Lowell, The Sirens (l. 94)
