The Ant and the Grasshopper

The Grasshopper, having sung
All summer long,
Found herself quite destitute
When the north wind blew its song:
Not a single little bit
Of fly or tiny worm to eat.

She went to cry her hunger out
At the Ant’s, her neighbor’s door,
Begging her to lend some grain
To see her through till spring once more.

“I’ll pay you back,” said she,
“Before August, on my word,
Interest and principal.”

The Ant is not a lender—
That’s the least of all her faults.
”What were you doing in the warm?”
She asked the borrower.

“Night and day, to every comer
I was singing, if you please.”

“You were singing? How delightful!
Well then—now it’s time to dance.”