1 66 The Poets and Nature. 



With a look of contempt and impertinent pride, 



" Begone, you vile reptile," his antship reply'd ; 



" Go, go, and lament your contemptible state, 



But first, look at me, see my limbs how complete ! 



I guide all my motions with freedom and ease, 



Run backward and forward, and turn when I please. 



Of nature (grown weary) you shocking essay ! 



I spurn you thus from me, crawl out of my way." 



The reptile insulted, and vexed to the soul, 



Crept onwards, and hid himself close in his hole ; 



But nature, determin'd to end his distress, 



Soon sent him abroad in a butterfly's dress. 



Ere long the proud ant, as repassing the road, 



(Fatigu'd from the harvest, and tugging his load) 



The beau on a violet bank he beheld, 



Whose vesture, in glory, a monarch's excell'd ; 



His plumage expanded 'twas rare to behold, 



So lovely a mixture of purple and gold. 



The ant, quite amazed at a figure so gay, 



Bow'd low with respect, and was trudging away : 



" Stop friend," says the butterfly, "don't be surprised ; 



I once was the reptile you spurn'd and despised ; 



But now I can mount ; in the sunbeams I play ; 



While you must for ever drudge on in your way ! " 



Moral. 



" A wretch, tho' to-day he's o'erloaded with sorrow, 

 May soar above those that oppress him to-morrow." 



Allan Ramsay, with a poet's usual fidelity to originals, has 

 a poem with the same title and identical ideas as this of 

 Cunningham's. It commences 



" A pensy ant right trig, and clean, 

 Came one day whidding o'er the green ; 

 When to advance her pride she saw 

 A caterpillar moving slaw." 



The caterpillar is very civil to the ant who, however, 

 "geeks up" her head and addresses it in scorn as "Some 

 experiment of nature, Who scarce has claims to be a 

 creature," and boasts of her own superior person : 



