IN the sunshine went the bee
Busily, O busily;
White birds flashed upon the sea,
White cliffs mounted dizzily;
There a shepherd tuned his reed
For the maiden of his need:
"Shepherdess," he piped, "give heed!"
Long ago in Sicily.
"As the sky your eyes are blue,"
He continued wittily
(When he said this it was new--
Just come south from Italy);
And she let her lids downfall
(This was then original)
At the marvel of it all--
Prettily, O prettily.
So the milch-goats went astray--
That's the short and long of it;
While they laughed the hours away--
That's the right and wrong of it;
Till the white wings ceased to strive,
Till the brown bee sought the hive;
"Wonderful!" they said--and I've
Made a silly song of it.
* * * * *