  The Bees are coming, I hear them humming Their pleasant Summer song. You are late to-day; Did you lose your way? We have been waiting long. My cream-white Clover Is running over With honey clear and sweet; And my Brier-Rose, As a bee well knows, Holds something nice to eat. Come, take your honey, It costs no money, The little gift is free; Come every noon Through merry June, And take your lunch with me.
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