"Nature’s confectioner, the bee, (Whose suckets are moist alchemy, The still of his refining mold Minting the garden into gold,) Having rifled all the fields Of what dainty Flora yields, Ambitious now to take exercise Of a more fragrant paradise, At my Fuscara’s sleeve arrived Where all delicious sweets are hived."
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Original Language: English
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Sources
John Cleveland, "Fuscara; or, The Bee Errant"
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Bees
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Bees
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