Walk a mile in this ant's shadow,
Ye heroes famed, and glory your wares,
That so-skill and encumbent smile,
Sings high your grace in glaring stares,
For feats high as this be narrow:
Oh, Adonis! A bull, so attract them more:
Hearing the whispers of Aphrodite's heart
Can only weep with drooping knees.
Who then ye hero claim a measure you got
When sweeter words your heart it pulls,
'Lack, digressing words caught be delayed,
Those heroes raised as princes dumb,
Could not compare to alluring ants,
With strength even drew succumb,
Whilst well travelled their acts relayed.
Yet I speak not as Attenborough,
For the story of one ant sparks a flame,
Even he would not narrate such a tale,
As sorrow bites, such tears off the flame,
Whilst my heart pains, my sight is lower.
I sing the leaves be crawling by ere
Nearing lie; as ants cool mist above,
Hoisted strength be met little fear,
As all of each come new furore.