Dear Sister, You dream like mad, you love like tinder, you aspire like a star-struck moth - for what? That you may hive little lyrics, and sell to a publisher for thirty pieces of silver.
And they brought an Owl, and a useful Cart, And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart, And a hive of silvery Bees. And they brought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws, And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws, and forty Bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree, And no end of Stilton Cheese.Edward Lear
You’ve never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive.jean cocteau
I think, here is your emblem To hang in the future sky; Not the cross, not the hive, But this; bright power, dark peace; Fierce consciousness joined with final Disinterestedness; Life with calm death ; the falcon ’s Realist eyes and act Married to the massive Mysticism of stone, Which failure cannot cast down Nor success make proud.robinson jeffers
His helmet now shall make a hive for bees, And lovers’ songs be turned to holy psalms; A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees, And feed on prayers, which are old age’s alms.George Peele
They think how one life hums, revolves and toils, One cog in a golden singing hive...stephen spender
“Goddamn you,” Jacob said. “There’s no damnation, Jacob. No Heaven but the forest and no God but the hive.”robert charles wilson
I think, here is your emblem To hang in the future sky ; Not the cross, not the hive, But this; bright power , dark peace ; Fierce consciousness joined with final Disinterestedness; Life with calm death ; the falcon ’s Realist eyes and act Married to the massive Mysticism of stone , Which failure cannot cast down Nor success make proud .
His helmet now shall make A hive for bees.
Thou that singest wheat and woodland, tilth and vineyard, hive and horse and herd; All the charm of all the Muses often flowering in a lonely word.
In a cottage I live, and the cot of content, Where a few little rooms for ambition too low, Are furnish'd as plain as a patriarch's tent, With all for convenience, but nothing for show: Like Robinson Crusoe's, both peaceful and pleasant, By industry stor'd, like the hive of a bee; And the peer who looks down with contempt on a peasant. Can ne'er be look'd up to with envy by me.
The little bee returns with evening's gloom, To join her comrades in the braided hive, Where, housed beside their mighty honey-comb, They dream their polity shall long survive.