There is a flower that bees prefer,
\nAnd butterflies desire;
\nTo gain the purple democrat
\nThe humming-birds aspire.<\/p>\n
And whatsoever insect pass,
\nA honey bears away
\nProportioned to his several dearth
\nAnd her capacity.<\/p>\n
Her face is rounder than the moon,
\nAnd ruddier than the gown
\nOf orchis in the pasture,
\nOr rhododendron worn.<\/p>\n
She doth not wait for June;
\nBefore the world is green
\nHer sturdy little countenance
\nAgainst the wind is seen,<\/p>\n
Contending with the grass,
\nNear kinsman to herself,
\nFor privilege of sod and sun,
\nSweet litigants for life.<\/p>\n
And when the hills are full,
\nAnd newer fashions blow,
\nDoth not retract a single spice
\nFor pang of jealousy.<\/p>\n
Her public is the noon,
\nHer providence the sun,
\nHer progress by the bee proclaimed
\nIn sovereign, swerveless tune.<\/p>\n
The bravest of the host,
\nSurrendering the last,
\nNor even of defeat aware
\nWhen cancelled by the frost.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"