XVII.—Against Idleness and Mischief.
1How doth the little busy bee
improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
from every opening flower.
2How skilfully she builds her cell!
how neat she spreads her wax!
And labours hard to store it well
with the sweet food she makes.
3In works of labour, or of skill,
I would be busy too:
For Satan finds some mischief still
for idle hands to do.
4In books, or works, or healthful play
let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
some good account at last.