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