How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flow'r!

How skillfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.

In works of labour or of skill,
I would be busy, too;
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.

In books, or work, or healthy play,
Let my first years be passed,
That I might give for ev'ry day,
Some good account at last.
    
   **~Isaac Watts 1674-1748~