Classic Poem

The wind blows east, the wind blows storm,
And yet this very hour
I saw a bumblebee embark
In frigate of a flower;

An admiral in epaulets,
He strode the scented deck
And in the teeth of tossing gales
He rode without a wreck.

More valorous adventurer
I never hope to see,—
Though mariners be gallant men,—
Than that same bumblebee.