ARGUMENT

OF

THE FIRST BOOK.

THEME proposed Invocation- Neglect of Bees by the British Muses Shakespear and Thomson excepted - Apologetic Address to those Poets Study of Nature highly important to Youth — Apostrophe to a deceased Parent Belan Grounds at Wynnstay - Song of Belan Address to Lady Williams Wynn - Spring Employments of Bees-and Flowers then in bloom Insects not produced by equivocal Generation Process of Incubation Incubation Labourers - Drones and Queen Bee May Flowers productive of Honey-Panegyric on the Economy of Bees - Their instinctive Ingenuity not the result of pure Mechanism-nor to be confounded with Man's superior Reason Slower evolution of the latter and of the Arts and Sciences to maturity-These lost in the dark Ages-and revived by Leo X.-transferred from Italy to Great Britain - Her Freedom, and Martial Glory Author concludes with an affectionate Apostrophe to his native

Island.

THE BEES.

BOOK I.

THAT

theme, which erst immortal MARO sung,

Ere yet to loftier strains his lyre he strung,

Bold in the cause of Truth, a rustic Muse,

With strength far feebler than her zeal, pursues.

No rival to his fame, she loves to tread,

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With timid step, o'er Nature's flow'ry bed,

Content to scan with philosophic eye

The Insect-labourer's heaven-taught industry,

Trace the young Bee-nymph from her silken pod,

And hail e'en there the UNIVERSAL GOD.

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Though long hath Rome resign'd her eagle sway,

Her fire extinct, her language in decay,

Still VIRGIL'S laurels on Parnassus wave,

And the sad wreck of letter'd ages brave:
Fain would an humbler bard his brow inwreath
With tufts of fragrant Thyme, that creep beneath.

Sweet Sister Nymphs, who once your PHILLIPS led,
Where gay Siluria's blushing orchards spread,

And boon Pomona with her sparkling bowl
Kindled fresh rapture in the Poet's soul;

Who heard, with DYER, on high Wrekin's brow,

The Shearer's song loud echoing from below,
And saw, in festive pomp, the Shepherds lave

Their fleecy tremblers in Sabrina's wave;

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Or ye,
who late with BLOOMFIELD joy'd to stray
Amid the rip'ning corn, or new-mown hay,

Sung the rich produce of the teeming soil,

And trac'd through circling suns the Farmer's toil,

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Inspire my lay!

While boon Pomona's bowl

Kindles fresh rapture in the Poet's soul,

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While echoing songs from Wrekin's brow recoil,

And lives in verse the Farmer's changeful toil,
Oh! shame to Britain! shall her sylvan Muse
Still to the BEES their well-earn'd meed refuse,
Who once to all the NINE so fondly clung,
And on MENANDER's lip, enamour'd, hung?
Shall Athens boast that her Hymettus shines,
Green as of old, in Ovid's flowing lines,

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Or late with BLOOMFIELD] Author of The Farmer's Boy.

36. And on MENANDER'S lip]

"The very bees, O sweet MENANDER, hung
"To taste the Muses' spring upon thy tongue."

Translation of Greek Epigrams, in the Spectator.

37. Iymettus shines]

"Hymettia sole

"Cera remollescit, tractataque pollice multas

"Flectitur in facies." OVID.

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And honey'd Hybla, now an empty name,
Revive in MARO's verse her former fame?

Yet, ALBION, round thy sea-encircled shore,
Though rich in arts refin'd, and classic lore,

No nectar'd vale, no bee-crown'd hill can boast
One wreath of praise from all thy laureate host.

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Some gleams indeed the British Muses yield

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Of partial light o'er this neglected field,

Witness great SHAKESPEAR! his bold pen could trace

-Each "ruling nature" of the honey'd race,

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Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;

"Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,

"Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;

"Which pillage they with merry march bring home

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