Bees

"Men, like bees, want room. When the hive is overflowing, the bees will swarm, and will be likely to take up their abode where they find the best prospect for honey. In matters of this sort, men are very much like bees."

"s are among the few species of bee to live together as a colony—even s, who are social in summer, reduce down to a single queen in winter. They work to produce as much honey as they can while flowers are blooming, so as to sustain themselves through the cold season."

"I began following Grandpa everywhere, climbing into his in the mornings and going to work with him. Thus began my education in the of , where I learned that a beehive revolved around one principle—the family. Grandpa taught me the hidden language of bees, how to interpret their movements and sounds, and to recognize the different scents they release to communicate with hive mates. His stories about the Shakespearean plots to overthrow the queen and its hierarchy of job positions swept me away to a secret realm when my own became too difficult."

"Ingentes animos angusto in pectore versant."

"Hi motus animorum atque haec certamina tanta Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt."

"Forget not bees in winter, though they sleep."

"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."

"The honey-bee that wanders all day long The field, the woodland, and the garden o'er, To gather in his fragrant winter store, Humming in calm content his winter song, Seeks not alone the rose's glowing breast, The lily's dainty cup, the violet's lips, But from all rank and noxious weeds he sips The single drop of sweetness closely pressed Within the poison chalice."

"The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy."

"His labor is a chant, His idleness a tune; Oh, for a bee's experience Of clovers and of noon!"

"Burly, dozing humblebee, Where thou art is clime for me. Let them sail for Porto Rique, Far-off heats through seas to seek. I will follow thee alone, Thou animated torrid-zone!"

"Seeing only what is fair, Sipping only what is sweet, ** * Leave the chaff, and take the wheat."

"The careful insect 'midst his works I view, Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew, With golden treasures load his little thighs, And steer his distant journey through the skies."

"Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise Their Master's flower, but leave it having done, As fair as ever and as fit to use; So both the flower doth stay and honey run."

"For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee Which bore my Love away I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave, He seek him in your eyes."

"O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles. Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells."

"Listen! O, listen! Here ever hum the golden bees Underneath full-blossoined trees, At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned."

"As busie as a Bee."

"The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved, in a tear of the sisters of Phaeton, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar. It has obtained a worthy reward for its great toils; we may suppose that the bee itself would have desired such a death."

"In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?"

"For so work the honey-bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts, Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summers velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home."

"The solitary Bee Whose buzzing was the only sound of life, Flew there on restless wing, Seeking in vain one blossom where to fix."

"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."

"How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower."

"The wild Bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing, Now in a lily cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, In his wandering."