The Ant

How resolute the ant.
 When traveling, she firmly plants 
  Her feet upon the ground. She must, 
For, if you were to let a gust 
 Of breath escape your lips, 
  Poor ant would sail away like ships 
   Borne hapless by the gale. 
But, though she spin and flail, 
 She would land aright again, 
  Undaunted and begin 
    Whatever task she left before 
With firm her feet upon the floor.