Unmeant Service

The bees which all day long with tireless care,

  In golden deeps of bloomy cups and bells,

  Seek bread and honey for their mystic cells-

Tiny co-workers with the enamored Air-

From flower to flower, with aid unweeting, bear

  Yearnings which Buds blush into Blooms to tell-

  Their love's fruition guarded long and well

By the great Mother in her secret lair;

So works our human o'er its selfish will;

  Seeking the honey of its own desire

It doth God service faithfully and still;

  Around his altar feeds the eternal fire

From its low passions, like the carrier Bee

That gives the flower he robs, an immortality.