The Bee and the Child

Come here, little Bee,
There are fresh flowers by me;
Come, and just let me see
How your honey is made!
'I can't, for I fear
That, for coming too near,
I should pay very dear,
So I can't—I'm afraid!'

O, feel no alarm;
Not a leg, nor an arm,
Nor a wing will I harm.
You may here sip your fill.
'Pretty maid, then I'll come
Close beside you and hum,
And you shall have some
Of the sweets I distil.'

Then my trust shall be free
As yours is in me,
And be sure, little Bee,
That you do'nt use your sting!
'Oh! no! no! — since I flew
From the cell where I grew,
None has known me to do
So ungrateful a thing!'

Then why thus supplied
With a sting, but to hide
And to keep it untried,
Out of sight, little Bee?
'He, who gave me my sting
And my swift gauzy wing,
Bids me not harm a thing
That would not injure me!'