1 How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!

2 How skilfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.

3 In works of labour or of skill
I would be busy too:
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.

4 In books, or work, or healthful play
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.