Bumble Bee

As I lay yonder in tall grass A drunken bumble-bee went past Delirious with honey toddy. The golden sash about his body Could scarce keep in his swollen belly Distent with honey-suckle jelly. Rose liquor and the sweet pea wine Had filled his soul with song divine; Deep had he drunk the warm night through: His hairy thighs were wet with dew. Full many an antic he had played While the world went round through sleep and shade. Oft had he lit with thirsty lip Some flower-cup's nectared sweets to sip, When on smooth petals he would slip Or over tangled stamens trip, And headlong in the pollen rolled, Crawl out quite dusted o'er with gold. Or else his heavy feet would stumble Against some bud and down he'd tumble Amongst the grass; there lie and grumble In low, soft bass--poor maudlin bumble! With tipsy hum on sleepy wing He buzzed a glee--a bacchic thing Which, wandering strangely in the moon, He learned from grigs that sing in June, Unknown to sober bees who dwell Through the dark hours in waxen cell. When south wind floated him away The music of the summer day Lost something: sure it was a pain To miss that dainty star-light strain.