The Song of the Busy Bee

Buzz! buzz! buzz!

This is the song of the bee.

His legs are of yellow;

A jolly good fellow,

And yet a great worker is he.

In days that are sunny

He's getting his honey;

In days that are cloudy

He's making his wax:

On pinks and on lilies,

And gay daffodillies,

And columbine blossoms,

He levies a tax!

Buzz! buzz! buzz!

The sweet smelling clover,

He, humming, hangs over;

The scent of the roses

Makes fragrant his wings;

He never gets lazy;

From thistle and daisy,

And weeds of the meadow,

Some treasure he brings.

Buzz! buzz! buzz!

From morning's first light

Till the coming of night,

He's singing and toiling

The summer day through.

Oh! we may get weary,

And think work is dreary;

'Tis harder by far

To have nothing to do.