In winter time, an ant dragged forth, to dry,
Some corn, by him last summer heap’d on high.
A starved grasshopper begg’d that he would give
Some share to it, lest it would cease to live.
“What did you,” asked he, “all the summer long?”
I lagg’d not, but was constant in my song.”
Laughing, the ant said, as he barr’d his wheat,
“Dance in the cold, since you sang in the heat!”
Of needful things ’tis better thought to take,
Than joy and revels our mind’s study make