With branches broken off to suit

With branches broken off to suit, And grass uplifted by the root, In vain some daring Brownies tried To brush the buzzing plagues aside. Said one, whose features proved to all That bees had paid his face a call: "I'd rather dare the raging main Than meddle with such things again." "The noble voice," another cried, "Of duty still must rule and guide,— Or in the ditch the sun would see The tumbled hive for all of me."

And when at last the fence they found That girt the farmer's orchard 'round, And laid the hive upon the stand, There hardly was, in all the band, A single Brownie who was free From some reminders of the bee.

But thoughts of what a great surprise Ere long would light the farmer's eyes Soon drove away from every brain The slightest thought of toil or pain.