Of Nature I shall have enough
When I have entered these
Entitled to a Bumble bee's
Familiarities.
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These are the Signs to Nature's Inns —
Her invitation broad
To Whosoever famishing
To taste her mystic Bread —
These are the rites of Nature's House —
The Hospitality
That opens with an equal width
To Beggar and to Bee
For Sureties of her staunch Estate
Her...Touch lightly Nature's sweet Guitar
Unless thou know'st the Tune
Or every Bird will point at thee
Because a Bard too soon —We thirst at first — 'tis Nature's Act —
And later — when we die —
A little Water supplicate —
Of fingers going by —
It intimates the finer want —
Whose adequate supply
Is that Great Water in the West —
Termed Immortality —