Bee Poems

Bee Poems

After the Winter, by Claude McKay

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
A...

A Red Flower, by Claude McKay

Your lips are like a southern lily red,
Wet w...

Gallus, by Virgil

This closing effort, Arethusa, aid;
A few b...

Georgic IV, by Virgil

Of air-born honey, gift of heaven, I now
Tak...

Meliboeus, by Virgil

Daphnis beneath a whispering holm reclined,
A...

A Study in Nature, by Allie Isabel Lucas

One sovereign holds indisputable sway!
Her lig...

The Bee, by Anacreon

Love, a Bee that lurk'd among
Roses saw not, ...

The Bee, by Andrew Downing

The music of the busy bee
Is drowsy, and it c...

Destiny, by Andrew Downing

A wise old mother is Nature--
She guideth her ...

Coming Home from the Fair, by Anna Katherine Green

She thinks she is pretty--look there!
How she ...

Corsica, by Anna Letitia Barbauld

Hail, generous Corsica! Unconquered isle!
The...

The Bee, by Arthur Guiterman

Little chemic-artisan,
Doing work no other ca...

Tulips, by Arthur Guiterman

Brave little fellows in crimsons and yellows,
...

Benedictine, by Arthur Symons

The Benedictine scents and stains
the languor ...

The Bee, by C. B. Langston

Is it the beauty of the flower,
Its honeyed s...

To a Spider, by C. B. Langston

Weave on, poor insect! Weave on still,
Thy s...

Wild Flowers, by C. B. Langston

My fancy's queen, the muse, one day,
Presse...

Homeward, by Caroline Spencer

It is the time when birds are calling,
Each t...

The Mowing, by Caroline Spencer

But yesterday I passed this way,
And stopped ...

Sweet Bells Jangled Out of Tune, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene

OPHELIA IN HAMLET. Adown the soft meadow, the...

At Killybegs, by Clinton Scollard

At Killybegs above the crags
The gray gulls pi...

There's Necromancy Still, by Clinton Scollard

There's necromancy still!
The rathe marsh-mari...

A Flower of a Day, by Dinah Craik

Old friend, that with a pale and pensile grace...

Amid a Crown of Radiant Hills, by Dollie Radford

Amid a crown of radiant hills,
A little wood ...

The Closed Gentian, by Edith Matilda Thomas

What shall I say of thee,
Flower all elusive,...