Everywhere bees go racing with the hours,
For every bee becomes a drunken lover,
Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.


The Land (1927)


Everywhere bees go racing with the hours, For every bee becomes a drunken lover, Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.

Everywhere bees go racing with the hours, For every bee becomes a drunken lover, Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.

Everywhere bees go racing with the hours, For every bee becomes a drunken lover, Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.

Everywhere bees go racing with the hours, For every bee becomes a drunken lover, Standing upon his head to sup the flowers.