From a wise emmet, well sustain'd On what her industry had gain'd, A grasshopper some aid desir'd. "What was his trade?" the ant inquir'd. "I've none," the grasshopper replied; "I range the country far and wide, Singing all day from door to door, And have no time to form a store." Shutting her granaries, says the ant, "No wonder, friend, you are in want; He who all summer sings, may chance In winter to be forc'd to dance."