Suffering

I sat down on a bumble bee
In Mrs. Jackson’s yard:
I sat down on a bumble bee:
The bee stung good and hard.

I sat down on a bumble bee,
For just the briefest spell,
And I had only muslin on,
As any one could tell.

I sat down on a bumble bee,
But I arose again;
And now I know the tenseness of
Humiliating pain.