Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DAVENTRY WONDER; SHOWING HOW FARMER B-LL'S BEES ISSUED ..., by AGRICOLA [PSEUD.]


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE DAVENTRY WONDER; SHOWING HOW FARMER B-LL'S BEES ISSUED ..., by                    
First Line: "now cynthia shone serene, and every star"
Last Line: "let learned macclesfield say what he will, / spite of new style, we'll keep old christmas still"
Alternate Author Name(s): Agricola
Subject(s): Bees;christmas;farm Life;holidays;insects; "beekeeping;nativity, The;agriculture;farmers;bugs;


NOW Cynthia shone serene, and ev'ry star
Through the clear ether twinkled from afar;
An hoary frost o'erspread the glitt'ring ground,
And ev'ry sprig with white was robed around;
Delightful to behold! scarce flow'ry May
Presents a sight more delicately gay.
'Twas near the midnight hour on Christmas Eve,
When bees will swarm, as good old dames believe.
To see this sight a tribe of females went,
And straight to Farmer B—ll's their course they bent.
The farmer slept secure in Sylvia's arms,
Nor dreamed of bees, much less of winter swarms.
Lo! in his garden sundry hives there stood
(Some on broad stones, and some on planks of wood),
All neatly capped, in just arrangement placed:
Sheltered behind; the southern aspect faced.
They listened here awhile—but nothing stirred;
All still as death—and not a hum was heard.
'We are too soon by half an hour, indeed!'
Cries one; 'Let's take a walk'. They all agreed.
Far as Pope-well in pairs they strolled along,
And sweetly chaunted, as they went, a song:
A good old carol, for the season fit,Such rhymes as Sternhold and as Hopkins
writ.
Now jangling bells from many a steeple near,
The summons to a midnight peal, they hear.
Who knows but bees from hence may take alarm?
For ringing, Maro says, will make 'em swarm.
Attend the muse, the muse who dares not lie,
Nor would the truth conceal, were Aff—k by.
Meanwhile ('tis said) a wag disturbed the bees,
Shook all the hives, then skulked behind the trees.
The frighted insects waked and, pouring out,
Like swarms in May hummed, buzzed and flew about.
Our gentry now return—'twas just midnight
(Precise the time to see this wond'rous sight);
They came—they saw—and at each other gazed,
And silent stood awhile o'erawed, amazed!
Till one at length, more eager than the rest,
Broke silence and her comrades thus addressed:
'Companions dear! now our own eyes behold
This marv'lous sight, reported much of old;
This sight my grand-dame had full often seen,
And often fairies dancing on the green;
And often ghosts across the churchyard glide,
And Welton witches on a broomstick ride.
I shudder still, whene'er I call to mind
The wond'rous stories which she left behind.
When crickets sung and owls fled screaming by,
The sick, she said, were always sure to die.
Such warnings now this impious age disdains,
And infidelity unrivalled reigns.
Happy for her in better days t' have lived,
When faith was more, and learning less, received.
She too had seen the Glastonbury thorn,
Convinced that Christ this very night was born.
This miracle, my friends, confirms it plain;
We cannot doubt our eyes, or think it vain.
Let learned Macclesfield say what he will,
Spite of New Style, we'll keep old Christmas still.'





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