"BUSY-BODY, busy-body, Always on the wing, Wait a bit, where you have lit, And tell me why you sing." Up, and in the air again, Flap, flap, flap! And now she stops, and now she drops Into the rose's lap. "Come, just a minute come, From your rose so red." Hum, hum, hum, hum -- That was all she said. Busy-body, busy-body, Always light and gay, It seems to me, for all I see, Your work is only play. And now the day is sinking to The goldenest of eves, And she doth creep for quiet sleep Among the lily-leaves. "Come, just a moment come, From your snowy bed." Hum, hum, hum, hum -- That was all she said. But, the while I mused, I learned The secret of her way: Do my part with cheerful heart, And turn my work to play. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMPANIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO GALLANT FRANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO A MAN WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD by MARIANNE MOORE MIDDLE-AGED; A STUDY IN EMOTION by EZRA POUND LANCELOT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON NO EXEMPTION FOR TOURISTS by KAREN SWENSON |