Divine Songs for Children ‎#XXVIII

XXVIII. The Ant, or Emmet

These Eemets, how little they are in our eyes!
We tread them to dust, and a troop of them dies,
Without our regard or concern:
Yet as wise as we are, if we went to their school,
There’s many a sluggard, and many a fool,
Some lesson of wisdom might learn.

They wear not their time out in sleeping or play,
But gather up corn in a sun-shiny day,
And for winter they lay up their stores:
They manage their work in such regular forms,
One would think they foresaw all the frosts and the storms,
And so brought their food within doors.

But I have less sense than a poor creeping ant,
If I take not due care for the things I shall want,
Nor provide against dangers in time;
When death or old age shall once stare in my face,
What a wretch shall I be in the end of my days,
If I trifle away all their prime!

Now, now, while my strength and my youth are in bloom,
Let me think what shall serve me when sickness shall come,
And pray that my sins be forgiven.
Let me read in good books, and believe, and obey,
That when death turns me out of this cottage of clay,
I may dwell in a palace in heaven.

Text Information

• First Line: These emmets, how little they are in our eyes!
• Title: The Ant, or Emmet
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1827

Tune Information

(No tune information)