Isaac Watts

How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From ev'ry open flow'r ? How skillfully she builds her cell. How neat she spreads her 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 works, or healthy play Let my first years be passed, That I may give for ev'ry day Some good account at last.

Isaac Watts (1674 - 1748)

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