LUNCH TIME.
The Bees are coming,
I hear them humming
Their pleasant Summer song.
You are late to-day;
Did you lose your way?
We have been waiting long.
My cream-white Clover
Is running over
With honey clear and sweet;
And my Brier-Rose,
As a bee well knows,
Holds something nice to eat.
Come, take your honey,
It costs no money,
The little gift is free;
Come every noon
Through merry June,
And take your lunch with me.