The Bee and the Rose

THERE is a constant joy that I have found
On upland pastures in the light of noon,
Far from a human face or human sound,
That I could tell of, if I were a bee
Like this one who goes booming toward the sea,
Making the most of summers gone so soon,
And passing on life’s way melodiously.

There Is an ecstasy that I have known,
Among the shadows of green arching things,
That I could breathe if I had only grown
In fragrant beauty, like this brier-rose,
Which lowly lives, and wholly unpraised blows ;
Cheering the bright world where the robin sings,
And only this one simple duty knows.