Volume 146 — SONG.

In the sunshine went the bee Busily, O busily; White birds flashed upon the sea, White cliffs mounted dizzily; There a shepherd tuned his reed For the maiden of his need: "Shepherdess," he piped, "give heed!" Long ago in Sicily. "As the sky your eyes are blue," He continued wittily (When he said this it was new— Just come south from Italy); And she let her lids downfall (This was then original) At the marvel of it all— Prettily, O prettily. So the milch-goats went astray— That's the short and long of it; While they laughed the hours away— That's the right and wrong of it; Till the white wings ceased to strive, Till the brown bee sought the hive; "Wonderful!" they said—and I've Made a silly song of it.