Against Idleness and Mischief

How doth the little busy Bee

  Improve each shining Hour,

And gather Honey all the day

  From every opening Flower!

How skilfully 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 healthful Play

  Let my first Years be past,

That I may give for every Day

  Some good Account at last.

Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.The lyrical form of this poem is abab.