The bees have now returned to visit blooms Teased open by the spring sun's warm caress. Alighting, they imbibe the sweet perfumes And tickle petals while they--slaked--egress. They hum between the apple tree's pink flowers And sow the seeds of summer's gravid crop Then they, in afternoon's long-shadowed hours, Fly back to hive's embrace, and labors stop. She sleeps and sips from Lethe while I lie Awake beside her.