The rifing mafts advance, the fails grow white,
And all his pompous navy floats in fight.
Come, mighty Prince, defir'd of Britain, come!
May Heaven's propitious gales attend thee home!
Come, and let longing crowds behold that look,
Which fuch confusion and amazement ftruck
Through Gallic hofts: but, oh! let us defcry
Mirth in thy brow, and pleasure in thine eye;
Let nothing dreadful in thy face be found,
But for a while forget the trumpet's found:
Well-pleas'd, thy people's loyalty approve,
Accept their duty, and enjoy their love.
For as, when lately mov'd with fierce delight,
You plung'd amidst the tumult of the fight,
Whole heaps of death encompass'd you around,
And fteeds o'er-turn'd lay foaming on the ground;
So crown'd with laurels now, where-e'er you go,
Around you blooming joys and peaceful bleffings flow.
Of little creatures wondrous acts I treat,
The ranks and mighty leaders of their state,
Their laws, employments, and their wars relate.
A trifling theme provokes my humble lays :
Trifling the theme, not fo the poet's praise,
If great Apollo and the tuneful Nine
Join in the piece, and make the work divine,
First, for your bees a proper station find,
That's fenc'd about and shelter'd from the wind;
For winds divert them in their flight, and drive'
The fwarms, when loaden homeward, from their hive.
Nor fheep, nor goats, must pasture near their stores,
To trample under foot the springing flowers;
Nor frifking heifers bound about the place,
To fpurn the dew-drops off, and bruise the rifing grafs :
Nor must the lizard's painted brood appear,
Nor wood-pecks, nor the swallow harbour near.
They wake the fwarms, and as they fly along
Convey the tender morfels to their young.
C
Let purling ftreams, and fountains edg'd with mofs, And fhallow rills, run trickling through the grass; Let branching olives o'er the fountain grow, Or palms fhoot up, and fhade the ftreams below; That when the youth, led by their princes, shun The crowded hive, and fport it in the fun, Refreshing springs may tempt them from the heat, And fhady coverts yield a cool retreat
Whether the neighbouring water stands or runs, Lay twigs across, and bridge it o'er with stones; That if rough storms, or fudden blasts of wind, Should dip, or scatter those that lag behind, Here they may fettle on the friendly stone, And dry their reeking pinions at the fun. Plant all the flowery banks with lavender, With store of savory fcent the fragrant air, Let running betony the field o'erspread, And fountains foke the violet's dewy bed. Though barks or plaited willows make your hive, A narrow inlet to their cells contrive;
For colds congele and freeze the liquors up,
And, melted down with heat, the waxen buildings drop:
The bees, of both extremes alike afraid,
Their wax around the whistling crannies spread,
And fuck out clammy dews from herbs and flowers,
To fmear the chinks, and plaifter up the pores :
For this they hoard up glew, whofe clinging drops,
Like pitch, or birdlime, hang in ftringy ropes.
They oft, 'tis faid, in dark retirements dwell,
And work in fubterraneous caves their cell;
At other times th' induftrious infects live
In hollow rocks, or make a tree their hive.
Point all their chinky lodgings round with mud,
And leaves must thinly on your work be strow'd;
But let no baleful yew-tree flourish near,
Nor rotten marshes send out steams of mire;
Nor burning crabs grow red, and crackle in the fire:
Nor neighbouring caves return the dying found,
Nor echoing rocks the doubled voice rebound.
Things thus prepar’d—
When th' under-world is feiz'd with cold and night,
And fummer here defcends in ftreams of light,
The bees through woods and forests take their flight.
They rifle every flower, and lightly skim
Thy crystal brook, and fip the running ftream:
And thus they feed their young with strange delight,
And knead the yielding wax, and work the flimy sweet
But when on high you see the bees repair,
Borne on the wind, through diftant tracts of air,
And view the winged cloud all blackening from afar
While fhady coverts and fresh steams they chufe,
Milfoil and common honey-fuckles bruise,
And sprinkle on their hives the fragrant juice.
On brazen vessels beat a tinkling found,
And shake the cymbals of the goddess round;
Then all will haftily retreat, and fill
The warm refounding hollow of their cell.
If once two rival kings their right debate,
And factions and cabals embroil the state,
The people's actions will their thoughts declare;
All their hearts tremble, and beat thick with war;
Hoarfe broken founds, like trumpet's harsh alarms,
Run through the hive, and call them to their arms;
All in a hurry fpread their shivering wings,
And fit their claws, and point their angry stings :
In crowds before the king's pavilion meet,
And boldly challenge out the foe to fight;
At last, when all the heavens are warm and fair,
They rush together out, and join; the air
Swarms thick, and echoes with the humming war.
All in a firm round cluster mix, and strow
With heaps of little corps the earth below;
As thick as hail-ftones from the floor rebound,
Or fhaken acorns rattle on the ground.
No fenfe of danger can their kings control,
Their little bodies lodge a mighty foul
Each obftinate in arms purfues his blow,
Till thameful flight fecures the routed foe.
This hot difpute and all this mighty fray
A little duft flung upward will allay.
But when both kings are fettled in their hive,
Mark him who looks the worst, and left he live
Idle at home in eafe and luxury,
The lazy monarch must be doom'd to die;
So let the royal infect rule alone,
And reign without a rival in his throne.
The kings are different: one of better note,
All fpeckt with gold, and many a fhining spot,
Looks gay, and glistens in a gilded coat;
But love of eafe, and floth in one prevails,
That scarce his hanging paunch behind him trails:
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