'Pothecary, 'pothecary, living in the rose,

Tell us how to make the scent that everybody knows.

"A penny's worth of nectar; a dozen drops of dew;

A little compound sunshine that's slowly filtered through;

A sun-glass made of diamond, and then—the mixing done—

Set out a little flask of it to simmer in the sun."

'Pothecary, 'pothecary, is there nothing more?

"Yes, it taketh industry to make the summer's store.

So, my lad and lady, run off now and play;—

This, like every day in June, is my busy day."