Poems (Jackson)/Vanity of Vanities
For works with similar titles, see Vanity of Vanities.
EE to the blossom, moth to the flame;Each to his passion; what's in a name?Red clover 's sweetest, well the bee knows;No bee can suck it; lonely it blows.
VANITY OF VANITIES.
EE to the blossom, moth to the flame;Each to his passion; what's in a name?Red clover 's sweetest, well the bee knows;No bee can suck it; lonely it blows.Deep lies its honey, out of reach, deep;What use in honey hidden to keep?
Robbed in the autumn, starving for bread;Who stops to pity a honey-bee dead?
Star-flames are brightest, blazing the skies;Only a hand's-breadth the moth-wing flies.
Fooled with a candle, scorched with a breath;Poor little miller, a tawdry death!
Life is a honey, life is a flame;Each to his passion; what's in a name?
Swinging and circling, face to the sun,Brief little planet, how it doth run!
Bee-time and moth-time, add the amount;White heat and honey, who keeps the count?
Gone some fine evening, a spark out-tost!The world no darker for one star lost!
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;Each to his passion; what's in a name?