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.
