Perhaps this is the Emily Dickinson poem you are looking for:
 
The pedigree of Honey
Does not concern the Bee,
Nor lineage of Ecstasy
Delay the Butterfly
On spangled journeys to the peak
Of some perceiveless thing--
The right of way to Tripoli
A more essential thing.
 
        (Version 2)
 
The Pedigree of Honey
Does not concern the Bee--
A Clover, any time, to him,
Is Aristocracy--
 
I'm not much for poetry, and these poems did not exactly thrill me.  In
fact, I thought this doesn't look so hard, and so:
 
        The Breeder's Success
 
Bend close to this one hive my friend
And listen what you hear.
The sound of mandibles crunching mites
Is a music o so dear.