A pensy ant, right trig and clean,
Came ae day whiding o'er the green,
Where, to advance her pride, she saw
A caterpillar moving slaw.
"Good-e'en t' ye, Mistress Ant," said he,
"How's a' at hame, I'm blyth to s' ye."
The sawcy ant view'd him with scorn,
Nor wad civilities return.
But, gecking up her head, quoth she:
"Poor animal, I pity thee,
Wha scarce can claim to be a creature,
But some experiment of nature,
Whase silly shape displeas'd her eye,
And thus unfinished was flung by.
For me, I'm made with better grace,
With active limbs, and lively face;
And cleverly can move with ease
Frae place to place where e'er I please.
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 with a thing,
A creeping thing, the like of thee,
Not worthy of a farewell t' ye."
The airy ant syne turn'd awa,
And left him with a proud gaffa.
The caterpillar was struck dumb,
And never answer'd her a mum.
The humble reptile fand some pain
Thus to be banter'd with disdain.
BUT tent neist time the ant came by
The worm was grown a butterfly.
Transparent were his wings and fair,
Which bare him flightering throw the air.
Upon a flower he stapt his flight
And, thinking on his former slight,
Thus to the ant himself addrest:
"Pray, madam, will ye please to rest,
And notice what I now advise.
Inferiors ne'er too much despise,
For fortune may gi'e 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."
A pensie ant, richt trig an clean,
Cam ae day whidin ower the green,
Where, ti advance her pride, shae saw
A caterpeelar muivin slaw.
"Guid e'en t'ye, Mistress Ant," sayd he,
"Hoo's aw at hame, Ah'm blythe ti s'ye."
The saucie ant viewed him wi scorn,
Nor wad civeelities return.
But, geckin up her heid, quoth she:
"Puir ainimal, Ah peety thee,
Wha scarce can claim ti be a craitur,
But some expairiment o naitur,
Whase silly shape displeesed her ee,
An thus unfeenisht wes flung be.
For me, Ah'm made wi better grace,
Wi acteeve limms, an leevely face;
An cliverly can muive wi ease
Frae place tae place whair e'er Ah please.
Can fit a minuwae or jeeg,
An snoov't like onie whirly-gig.
Whilk gars ma Jaw aft grip ma han
Till his hairt peety patties, an --
But laich ma qualities Ah bring,
Ti stan up clashin wi a thing,
A creepin thing, the like o thee,
No worthy o a fareweel t'ye."
The airy ant syne turned awa,
An left him wi a prood gaffa.
The caterpeelar wes struck dumm,
An niver ansered her a mum.
The humble reptile fand some pain
Thus ti be bantered wi disdain.
But tent neist time the ant cam be
The wirm wes growen a buttieflee.
Transparent war his wings an fair,
Whilk bare him flichterin throwe the air.
Upon a flooer he stapt his flicht
An, thinkin on his former slicht,
Thus til the ant himsel addrest:
"Pray, madam, wull ye pleise ti rest,
An notice what Ah noo advise.
Inferiors neer tae much despise,
For fortune may gie sic a torn,
Ti raise aboon ye what ye scorn.
For instance, noo Ah spread ma wing
In air, while ye're a creepin thing."