The air was ripening in a mellow haze,
And summer filled the blue cup of the sky
With magic wine, and all the woodland ways
Were rich with blossom, and my heart and I
Were glad together. Then, upon mine ear
There fell a sudden buzzing, and my breath
Was stayed with horror for that even here
Was death and loathly lives that live on death!
Oh fearful heart! why must thou ever cast
Thy shadow on the sunshine and endue
Potential good with evil? Shrill and sweet
The buzz became a murmur, till at last
It swelled into a paean and I knew
’Twas honey, not corruption at my feet.
Agnes L. Storrie. Poems, J. W. Kettlewell, Sydney, 1909, page 248