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Throng to th' imperial tent, their king surround,
Provoke the foe, and loud defiance sound.
At length when spring expands th' unclouded day,
Through opening portals burst their wing'd
array;

Fierce clash the clustering orbs, air rings around,
Prone from the conflict myriads strow the ground,
Thick as tempestuous hail from summer show'rs,
Or streaming acorns dash'd from oaken bow'rs.
Amid the press of war, th' encountʼring kings,
Mark'd by the pomp and spreading of their
wings,

While boundless souls their little bosom swell,
To deeds of glory either host impel:

Fiercely they fight, unknowing how to yield,
Till the dread victor masters all the field.

THE

ECONOMY AND POLITY OF THE BEES.

They, they alone a common city share
And rear a common race, the public care,

Love their known household, aid their country's

cause,

Securely live beneath establish'd laws; Prescient of winter, hoard the rifled spring, And summer's tribute to the treasury bring. Some, by fixt league, forsake awhile their home, And far and wide, to feed the nation, roam; Form'd of thick gum and pale Narcissus' tear, Some, in the hive, their new foundations rear ; These, train'd to work, the clinging wax suspend, These to the young, the nation's hope, attend, These stow pure honey, and unwearied swell With liquid nectar each o'erflowing cell.

These, at the gate, their station'd vigils keep, Mark where the clouds collect, the tempests

sweep,

Unload the labourer, or, embattled drive

The drone, dull sluggard, from the busy hive: A nation toils, the work unwearied glows,

And, redolent of thyme, the honey flows.

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To each his part; age claims th' entrusted care
To rear the palace and the dome repair;
The young, returning homeward late at night,

Droop with the thyme that loads their weary'd

flight.

Where'er a willow waves, or arbute grows,

Or casia scents the gale, or crocus glows,
Or hyacinth unfolds its purple hue,

Flow'r, shrub, and grove, for them their sweets

renew.

Alike they labour, and alike repose:

Forth from their gates each morn the nation flows;

And when pale twilight, from the rifled mead,
Bids the tir'd race, o'ercharg'd with spoil, recede,
They seek their roof, their drooping frame revive,
And shake with ceaseless hum the crowded hive.
Deep calm succeeds, each laid within his cell,
Where sleep and peace without a murmur dwell.
If tempests low'r, or rushing Eurus sound,
Secure they creep their city walls around,
Sip the pure rill that near their portal springs,
And bound their wary flight in narrower rings;
And oft with pebbles like a balanc'd boat,

Poiz'd, through the air on even pinions float.

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But (since dread ills both bees and man molest)

If e'er disease the languid hive infest,
A horrid leanness the dread sign displays,
Their vigour wastes away, their hue decays:
The dead are carried forth, and sad and slow
The long procession swells the pomp of woe;
Or round the doors they cling with pensile feet,
Or all lie loitering in their dark retreat,
Their drooping pinions, weak with famine, close,
Or, shrunk with cold, their torpid limbs repose.
Then long-drawn hums, wind on from cell to cell,
Like gales that murmur down the woodland dell,
Or ebbing waves that roll along the shore,
Or flames that in the furnace inly roar.

SAXON ORIGIN

OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

From the Anglo-Saxons we derive the names of the most ancient officers among us; of the greater part of the divisions of the kingdom, and of almost all our towns and villages. From them also we derive our language; of which the structure, and a majority of its words, much greater than those who have not thought on the sub

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