Famous Bee Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Bee poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous bee poems. These examples illustrate what a famous bee poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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A Song To David

...d
 And infinite degree; 
O strength, O sweetness, lasting ripe! 
God's harp thy symbol, and thy type 
 The lion and the bee! 

 XXXIX 
There is but One who ne'er rebell'd, 
But One by passion unimpell'd, 
 By pleasures unentic'd; 
He from Himself His semblance sent, 
Grand object of His own content, 
 And saw the God in CHRIST. 

 XL 
Tell them, I am, JEHOVAH said 
To MOSES; while earth heard in dread, 
 And, smitten to the heart, 
At once above, beneath, around, 
All Nature,...Read more of this...
by Smart, Christopher


Al Aaraaf

...ang
Upon the flying footsteps of- deep pride-
Of her who lov'd a mortal- and so died.
The Sephalica, budding with young bees,
Upreared its purple stem around her knees:-
And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd-
Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham'd
All other loveliness:- its honied dew
(The fabled nectar that the heathen knew)
Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from Heaven,
And fell on gardens of the unforgiven
In Trebizond- and on a sunny flower
So like its own above tha...Read more of this...
by Poe, Edgar Allan

Charmides

...from stall;
And then the clear-voiced maidens 'gan to sing,
And to the altar each man brought some goodly offering,

A beechen cup brimming with milky foam,
A fair cloth wrought with cunning imagery
Of hounds in chase, a waxen honey-comb
Dripping with oozy gold which scarce the bee
Had ceased from building, a black skin of oil
Meet for the wrestlers, a great boar the fierce and white-tusked
spoil

Stolen from Artemis that jealous maid
To please Athena, and the dappled hide
O...Read more of this...
by Wilde, Oscar

Dickinson Poems by Number

...
Builded our hearts among.

She did not sing as we did—
It was a different tune—
Herself to her a music
As Bumble bee of June.

Today is far from Childhood—
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter—
Which shortened all the miles—

And still her hum
The years among,
Deceives the Butterfly;
Still in her Eye
The Violets lie
Mouldered this many May.

I spilt the dew—
But took the morn—
I chose this single star
From out the wide night's numbers—...Read more of this...
by Dickinson, Emily

Endymion: Book IV

...ore me, till from these enslaving eyes
Redemption sparkles!--I am sad and lost."

 Thou, Carian lord, hadst better have been tost
Into a whirlpool. Vanish into air,
Warm mountaineer! for canst thou only bear
A woman's sigh alone and in distress?
See not her charms! Is Phoebe passionless?
Phoebe is fairer far--O gaze no more:--
Yet if thou wilt behold all beauty's store,
Behold her panting in the forest grass!
Do not those curls of glossy jet surpass
For tenderness the arms so...Read more of this...
by Keats, John


Essay on Man

...rnal(23) wood: 
The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! 
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line: 
In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true 
From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew:(24) 
How Instinct varies in the grov'ling swine, 
Compar'd, half-reas'ning elephant, with thine: 
'Twixt that, and Reason, what a nice barrier; 
For ever sep'rate, yet for ever near! 
Remembrance and Reflection how ally'd; 
What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide: 
And Midd...Read more of this...
by Pope, Alexander

Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

...lage, and honored of all men;
For, since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations,
Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people.
Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest childhood
Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician,
Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their letters
Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the plain-song.
But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson ...Read more of this...
by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth

Hurry Up Please Its Time

...pping away, why am I 
out here, what do they want? 
I am sorrowful in November... 
(no they don't want that, 
they want bee stings). 
Toot, toot, tootsy don't cry. 
Toot, toot, tootsy good-bye. 
If you don't get a letter then 
you'll know I'm in jail... 
Remember that, Skeezix, 
our first song? 

Who's thinking those things? 
Ms. Dog! She's out fighting the dollars. 
Milk is the American drink. 
Oh queens of sorrows, 
oh water lady, 
place me in your cup 
and pull over the cl...Read more of this...
by Sexton, Anne

I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

...I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee...Read more of this...
by Ali, Muhammad

Lara

...nor ask a long remorse. 

V. 

And they indeed were changed — 'tis quickly seen, 
Whate'er he be, 'twas not what he had been: 
That brow in furrow'd lines had fix'd at last, 
And spake of passions, but of passion past; 
The pride, but not the fire, of early days, 
Coldness of mien, and carelessness of praise; 
A high demeanour, and a glance that took 
Their thoughts from others by a single look; 
And that sarcastic levity of tongue, 
The stinging of a heart the world hath stu...Read more of this...
by Byron, George (Lord)

Last Instructions to a Painter

...ooks, and oft-tried beauty now distrusts, 
Fears lest he scorn a woman once assayed, 
And now first wished she e'er had been a maid. 
Great Love, how dost thou triumph and how reign, 
That to a groom couldst humble her disdain! 
Stripped to her skin, see how she stooping stands, 
Nor scorns to rub him down with those fair hands, 
And washing (lest the scent her crime disclose) 
His sweaty hooves, tickles him 'twixt the toes. 
But envious Fame, too soon, began to note 
More go...Read more of this...
by Marvell, Andrew

Paradise Lost: Book 05

...ts, how blows the citron grove, 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. 
Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye 
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake. 
O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
My glory, my perfection! glad I see 
Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night 
(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed, 
If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of...Read more of this...
by Milton, John

Salut au Monde

...n in the west, lingering about the banks of Moingo, and about
 Lake
 Pepin;
He has heard the quail and beheld the honey-bee, and sadly prepared to depart. 

I see the regions of snow and ice; 
I see the sharp-eyed Samoiede and the Finn; 
I see the seal-seeker in his boat, poising his lance; 
I see the Siberian on his slight-built sledge, drawn by dogs;
I see the porpoise-hunters—I see the whale-crews of the South Pacific and the North
 Atlantic; 
I see the cliffs, glaciers, t...Read more of this...
by Whitman, Walt

Song of Myself

...how immortal, but I know.)

Every kind for itself and its own—for me mine, male and female; 
For me those that have been boys, and that love women; 
For me the man that is proud, and feels how it stings to be slighted; 
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid—for me mothers, and the mothers of
 mothers; 
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears;
For me children, and the begetters of children. 

Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale, nor discar...Read more of this...
by Whitman, Walt

The Lady of the Lake

...nd all unworthy of thy nobler strain,
     Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway,
        The wizard note has not been touched in vain.
     Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake again!
     I.

     The stag at eve had drunk his fill,
     Where danced the moon on Monan's rill,
     And deep his midnight lair had made
     In lone Glenartney's hazel shade;
     But when the sun his beacon red
     Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head,
     The deep-mouthed b...Read more of this...
by Scott, Sir Walter

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

...n kept his course along 
The vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow.
And on the barren heath
Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted:
And a river, and a spring
On every cliff and tomb;
And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth.

Till the villain left the paths of ease,
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility.
And the just man rages in the wilds
Where lions roam.
...Read more of this...
by Blake, William

The Shadow

...autiful, dreadful thing, that shade
Of something so lovely, so exquisite,
Cast from a substance which the sight
Had not been tutored to perceive?
Paul brushed his eyes across his sleeve.
Clear-cut, the Shadow on the wall
Gleamed black, and never moved at all.

Paul's watches were like amulets,
Wrought into patterns and rosettes;
The cases were all set with stones,
And wreathing lines, and shining zones.
He knew the beauty in a curve,
And the Shadow tortured every nerve
With i...Read more of this...
by Lowell, Amy

The Walk

...ves me,--with carpet far away reaching,
Over its friendly green wanders the pathway along.
Round me is humming the busy bee, and with pinion uncertain
Hovers the butterfly gay over the trefoil's red flower.
Fiercely the darts of the sun fall on me,--the zephyr is silent,
Only the song of the lark echoes athwart the clear air.
Now from the neighboring copse comes a roar, and the tops of the alders
Bend low down,--in the wind dances the silvery grass;
Night ambrosial circles me...Read more of this...
by Schiller, Friedrich von

The Witch Of Atlas

...beside
Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade.
No thought of living spirit could abide
(Which to her looks had ever been betrayed)
On any object in the world so wide,
On any hope within the circling skies,--
But on her form, and in her inmost eyes.

Which when the Lady knew; she took her spindle,
And twined three threads of fleecy mist, and three
Long lines of light, such as the dawn may kindle
The clouds and waves and mountains with, and she
As many starbeams, ere their ...Read more of this...
by Shelley, Percy Bysshe

To Celia

...sent thee, late, a rosie wreath, 
Not so much honoring thee, 
As giving it a hope, that there 
It could not withered bee. 
But thou thereon did'st onely breath, 
And sent'st it back to mee: 
Since when it growes, and smells, I sweare, 
Not of it selfe, but thee. ...Read more of this...
by Jonson, Ben

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