The Bee and the Flower

The bee buzzed up in the heat.

"I am faint for your honey, my sweet."

The flower said, "Take it, my dear,

For now is the spring of the year.

So come, come!"

"Hum!"

And the bee buzzed down from the heat.

And the bee buzzed up in the cold

When the flower was withered and old.

"Have you still any honey, my dear?"

She said, "It 's the fall of the year,

But come, come!"

"Hum!"

And the bee buzzed off in the cold.

—Alfred Tennyson.