When The Bees Are In The Hive - Bill Monroe

(Bryan/Mills)





By the mill stream sits the Miller's pretty daughter

Her cheeks are like the first red rose of June

Her sweet voice sounds just like the rippling water

As so tenderly she hums an old love tune



But soon her song of joy has turned to sorrow

Her sweetheart now has come to say goodbye

She thinks of a sad and lonely morrow

And he hugs her as she murmers with a sigh



When the bees are in the hive and the honey in the comb

And the golden sunlight bends to kiss the dew

While the old mill wheel turns 'round I love you Mary

And when the bees are in the hive I'll come to you



By the old mill sits the lonely maid repining

And her face was like the spring rose far away

While she looked down in the silver waters shining

And she sees her golden locks are dimmed with grey



Long years she's waited there for his returning

All in vain she's thinking he'll come back someday

For the lamp of hope still in her heart is burning

As the old mill wheel turns 'round it seems to say