Bees Quote by Helen Hunt Jackson

“O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.” quote by Helen Hunt Jackson — Download Open image

“O bees, sweet bees!" I said; "that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.”

Helen Hunt Jackson

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Bees Bees and honey Drains Fields Honey Honey bee Said Shining Sweet Wells White

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Ah, March! we know thou art Kind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats, And, out of sight, art nursing April's violets!

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Next time!' In what calendar are kept the records of those next times which never come?

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Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.

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When love is at its best, one loves So much that he cannot forget.

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That indescribable expression peculiar to people who hope they have not been asleep, but know they have.

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The new is older than the old; And newest friend is oldest friend in this: That, waiting him, we longest grieved to miss One…

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Most men call fretting a minor fault, a foible, and not a vice. There is no vice except drunkenness which can so utterly destroy…

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For April sobs while these are so glad April weeps while these are so gay,- Weeps like a tired child who had, Playing with flowers, lost its way.

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Explore all 50 Helen Hunt Jackson quotes

More Bees quotes

Those who have not been stung will hardly fear a bee the same as those who have.

Sara Sheridan

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Arouse a bee and it will come at you with the force of a dragon.

Takeda Shingen

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Pray look upon the plants and birds, the ants, spiders, and bees, and you will see them all exerting their nature, and busy in…

Marcus Aurelius

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You see, years ago I was just an ordinary bee minding my own business, smelling flowers all day, and occasionally picking up part-time work…

Norton Juster

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As the bee collecteth honey with great zest, so the fool collecteth wealth.

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When I heard that the bees were in trouble, the fact that they're disappearing and not coming back to the hive, which is a…

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Precise, graceful, and generous, the poems in SuperLoop, seem to be born out of a deep, careful attention and a profound compassion. Sometimes the quiet observer, sometimes the kid in the center of the messed-up carnival, these poems are the fireflies you’ve missed all winter, the longed-for return of the bees. Unaffected and inherently hopeful, Callihan’s work is as merciful…

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The little bee returns with evening's gloom, To join her comrades in the braided hive, Where, housed beside their might honey-comb, They dream their…

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