What the Bee Is To the FloweretAir — The Yellow Horse WHAT the bee is to the flowert, He. — When he looks for honey-dew, Through the leaves that close embower it, That, my love, I’ll be to you. What the bank, with verdure glowing, She. — Is to waves that wander near, Whispering kisses, while they’re going, That I’ll be to you, my dear. But they say, the bee’s a rover, She. — Who will fly, when sweets are gone, And, when once the kiss is over, Faithless brooks will wander on. Nay, if flowers will lose their looks He. — If sunny banks will wear away, ’Tis but right that bees and brooks Should sip and kiss them, while they may.