Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, The bee's collected treasures sweet, Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet The still small voice of gratitude.
When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss At lightest thrill from the bee's swinging chime, Because the one so near the other is.george eliot
"Alliteration the mind - Temple, life is a honeymoon vernal song on the humble bee's lips, Alcoholic realized in the mustard flower, as like friend ."
His labor is a chant, His idleness a tune; Oh, for a bee's experience Of clovers and of noon!
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