With her honey now pouring out
                                       she saw his face—a grinning pout
                                     ‘the Boy is mean,’ the Bee observed
                                      ‘now he will get what he deserves!’
                                  With songs of sunshine now turned trite
                                   and dreams crushed by fear and spite
                                        spinning spirals weeping: Why!?
                                       she took a quick and one last try.
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