Bee

                                                           The Bee is not afraid of me,

                                                           I know the butterfly;

                                                           The pretty people in the woods

                                                           Receive me cordially

                                                          The brooks laugh louder when I come,

                                                          The breezes madder play.

                                                          Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?

                                                          Wherefore, O summer's day?

                   -Emily Dickinson