 | Valentine Verses |  |
69
THE ANT HEAP.
To watch the ants on summer day,
To see them wind their toilsome way,
O'er grass and stone, to see them stray,
Say is not this delight?—
The little creatures seem to play,
One moment run, the next delay,
Now one by one, so blithe and gay,
They gratify the sight.
To see them wind their toilsome way,
O'er grass and stone, to see them stray,
Say is not this delight?—
The little creatures seem to play,
One moment run, the next delay,
Now one by one, so blithe and gay,
They gratify the sight.
The world so large, is like a heap
Where busy ants have burrowed deep,
And rais'd a dome so high and steep,
It seems 'twould never fall;
But ah! the world, it will not keep,
I hold it fragile, weak and cheap,
In time will come the fatal sweep,
Will devastate it all.
Where busy ants have burrowed deep,
And rais'd a dome so high and steep,
It seems 'twould never fall;
But ah! the world, it will not keep,
I hold it fragile, weak and cheap,
In time will come the fatal sweep,
Will devastate it all.
70
Hast ever in the ant heap thrust
A stick or stone, if so, thou must
Have seen the creatures of the dust,
In myriads pouring forth:
Ah! such will be the like, I trust,
When earth dissolves, and beings must
Arise at summons of the just,
And estimate true worth.
A stick or stone, if so, thou must
Have seen the creatures of the dust,
In myriads pouring forth:
Ah! such will be the like, I trust,
When earth dissolves, and beings must
Arise at summons of the just,
And estimate true worth.
Then thou and I! O let us toil
On this our native verdant soil,
Avoid the bustle and the broil,
And gather what we want;
That love so ready to recoil
At art, or subtlety, or foil,
Which would not injure, rob, or spoil,
Yet imitate the ant.
On this our native verdant soil,
Avoid the bustle and the broil,
And gather what we want;
That love so ready to recoil
At art, or subtlety, or foil,
Which would not injure, rob, or spoil,
Yet imitate the ant.
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