Yellow Cap

ON A HONEY BEE

Thou born to sip the lake or spring.

Or quaff the waters of the stream.

With hither come on vagrant wing?

Does Bacchus tempting seem

Did he, for you, the glass prepare?

Will I admit you to a share?

Did storms harass or foes perplex.

Did wasps or king-birds bring dismay

Did wars distress, or labours vex,

or did you miss your way?

A better seat you could not take

Than on the margin on this lake

Welcome! I hail you to my glass

All welcome, here, you find

Here let the cloud of trouble pass,

Here, be all care resigned.

This fluid never fails to please,

And drown the griefs of men or bees.

What forced you here we cannot know,

And you will scarcely tell

But cheery we would have you go

And bid a glad farewell

On lighter wings we bid you fly,

Your dart will now all foes defy.

Yet take not oh! too deep a drink,

And in the ocean die

Here bigger bees than you might sink,

Even bees full six feet high.

Like Pharaoh, then, you would be said

To perish in a sea of red.

Do as you please, your will is mine

Enjoy it without fear

And your grave will be this glass of wine,

your epitaph a tear.

Go, take you seat in Charon's boat,

We'll tell the hive, you died afloat.

~Philip Freneau