A soft and flowered vision
Came on me as a breeze
In summer, and I saw
The souls of men like bees.
Up stairs of orchard foam
With balustrade of may,
Stagger, a mazy cluster,
Drunk with the scented day.
Then strong from newer honey,
With brighter pollen shod,
The little souls went buzzing
Up to the Hives of God.
_SHERARD VINES_
(_NEW COLLEGE_)