“As bees, In spring-time when the sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive In clusters; they, among fresh dews and flowers, Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, The suburb of their straw-built citadel, New rubbed with balm, expatiate and confer Their state-affairs.”

Landor, Pentameron , p. 92, says:⁠—