Author Frederick Adam Wright Your lips, dear Beatrice, honey sweet distil, And bees with Beatrice then do I compare; The sting comes when I have to pay the bill, For bees than Beatrice then less costly are. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments