Evening Thoughts in January
(Translated from the German by Adalbert Braun.)
BY A DEVONSHIRE BEE-KEEPER.
Within my little garden
Stands also a bee-house,
And bees therein protected
From sly tomtit or mouse.
How quietly they’re sitting!
And little trouble give,
Beyond the needful watching
That undisturbed they live—
That all, indeed, are living
In strong, unbroken health,
And, in the brood-nest hanging,
Consume their hoarded wealth—
That in the dwindling store-room
Sufficient stores remain,
Until the rape-plant donneth
Its blossom-dress again!
Thus daily do I visit
My garden and my bees,
Neglecting thereby often
My dinner and my ease.
Thank God! they all were humming
Within their hives to-day;
Nor could I find a symptom
Of hunger or decay.
And yet what ardent longing
I feel, O Spring, for thee!
My darlings’ gleesome frolics
Are happiness to me!
How would this anxious longing
Consume my very breast,
But for a little being
So full of love and jest.
In heat or cold that prattles
Around me ev’ry day,
And still, the throes of longing
By commune blithe and gay.
Ye bee-keepers can value
A joy that is complete;
It is my wife—the darling
Whose lips are honey-sweet.
With e’en the richest bee-stand
Were joy and pleasure gone,
If my heart’s queen were wanting
And I left here alone.
Thus, her I love and honour,
No difference have we,
But ofttimes go together
Our little pets to see.
Her kisses sweet removing
All sorrow from my breast,
And honied joys surrounding
Proclaim us highly blest.
Mount Radford, Exeter. T. W. Woodbury.