Here can no influence boast; but here true TASTE AMELIA OPIE. To a BEE. Thou wert out betimes, thou busy busy Bee! Before the Cow from her resting place On the meadow with dew so gray, I saw thee, thou busy busy Bee. Thou wert alive, thou busy busy Bee! When the crowd in their sleep were dead. Thouwert abroad in the freshest hour, When the sweetest odour comes from the flower; Man will not learn to leave his lifeless bed, And be wise and copy thee, thou busy busy Bee. Thou wert working late, thou busy busy Bee! I heard thee last as I saw thee first, When the Primrose-tree blossom was ready to burst, In the coolness of the evening hour, I heard thee, thou busy busy Bee. Thou art a miser, thou busy busy Bee! Still on thy golden stores intent, Thy youth in heaping and hoarding is spent What thy age will never enjoy; I will not copy thee, thou miserly Bee. Thou art a fool, thou busy busy Bee, Thy master waits till thy work is done, Till the latest flowers of the ivy are gone, And then he will seize the spoil, He will murder thee, thou poor little Bee! To a FRIEND EXPRESSING A WISH TO TRAVEL. Dost thou, then, listening to the traveller's tale And visit other lands, that thou mayest view To see the sun-beam shine on scenes so fair, ODE T. Mr. PACKWOOD. I. Come Muse and seize the trump of fame To sing great PACKWOOD's growing name, No king deserves it louder. Then swell your deep sonorous voice, To him who mortals bids rejoice; And seek his strap and powder! II. Oh! had'st thou flourish'd in a age,. Their hairy honours wore at length, |