The Caterpillar and the Ant 
Can foot a minuet or jig, 
And snoov’t like ony whirly-gig; 
Which gars my jo aft grip my hand, 
Till his heart pitty-pattys, and — 
But laigh my qualities I bring, 
To stand up clashing wi’ a thing, 
A creeping thing the like o’ thee, 
Not worthy o’ a farewell t’ ye.’ 
The airy Ant syne turned awa, 
And left him wi’ a proud gaffa. 
The Caterpillar was struck dumb, 
And never answered her a mum: 
The humble reptile fand some pain, 
Thus to be banter’d wi’ disdain. 
But tent neist time the Ant came by, 
The worm was grown a Butterfly; 
Transparent were his wings and fair, 
Which bare him flight’ring through the air. 
Upon a flower he stapt his flight, 
And thinking on his former slight, 
Thus to the Ant himself addrest: 
1 Pray, Madam, will ye please to rest? 
And notice what I now advise: 
Inferiors ne’er too much despise, 
For fortune may gie sic a turn, 
To raise aboon ye what ye scorn: 
For instance, now I spread my wing 
In air, while you 're a creeping thing.’ ” 
Allan Ramsav. 
