The Solitary Bee

A reasonable desire for peace and quietude on the part of a little black bee, who is the natural pollinator of the ti-tree, is said to account for the dying out of this shrub along Melbourne’s nearer foreshores. The little creature loves solitude and retreats before man’s activities, seeking lonelier sanctuaries afar.

O sapient bee! requiring no instruction
In that inferred by “man’s activities”:
The modern life, with riot, row and ruction
Inimical alike to men and bees;
Hitting the high spots, jazzing up the party,
Holding high revel by the scornful sea,
Giggles, guffaws, hysterical and hearty—
All such things leave you cold, O lonely bee.

Eccentric bee! You seek not to be clever
Or up-to-date, or in the swim. You care
No whit for restless man’s intent endeavor
To hasten somewhere, tho’ he knows not where.
You do not yearn for raucous noise; far sooner
Would you commune with Nature, quietly,
Than hearken to the caterwauling crooner
Bathing in bathos. O incurious bee!

Unsocial bee! ’Tis said you are a sorehead,
Raising no yawp to put black fear to rout;
But, using those grey cells behind your forehead,
As man moves in, you move discreetly out.
You’re not gregarious; yet quite contented
To be the humble servant of the Tree;
Smug, self-contained, you lurk ’mid blossom scented
And sneer at Progress. Poor uncultured bee!

O sapient bee! When you have found safe haven,
In years to come, by some idyllic shore
Far from brave bellowings of man, the craven,
Whose very fears betray him into war;
If you should hear, where ti-tree boughs are swinging,
Sound of far guns across your slumbrous sea,
Think what red hell Progress to us is bringing,
And pity us a little, small black bee.