Thomas Moore ( )


From Irish Melodies. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret


    WHAT the bee is to the flowert,
He.  When he looks for honey-dew,
    Through the leaves that close embower it,
          That, my love, Ill be to you.
    What the bank, with verdure glowing,
She.  Is to waves that wander near,
    Whispering kisses, while theyre going,
          That Ill be to you, my dear.
    But they say, the bees a rover,
She.  Who will fly, when sweets are gone,
    And, when once the kiss is over,
          Faithless brooks will wander on.
    Nay, if flowers will lose their looks
He.  If sunny banks will wear away,
    Tis but right that bees and brooks
          Should sip and kiss them, while they may.



Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 46
  2. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 60
  3. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 19
  4. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 30
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 9


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