The snow descended in the night
And said, “I’ll blanket all with white;
I’ll sheathe the hives, I’ll veil the trees,
I’ll shroud the world’s iniquities.”

The beekeeper rose on Christmas day;
He gazed on the peace that before him lay,
And he wondered when his fellow-men
Would live in peace – as the bees were then.

Each bee existing in the hive,
From queen to worker small,
Lives not for itself alone,
But for the good of all.