Say, of what mortal use is enmity?
Hast thou not seen two midget ants in strife,
Contending o’er the petal in the vale,—
See how they toil and sweat, and struggle long,
And tumble zig-zag down the hilly slope,
And e’en do totter on the streamlet’s edge,
Until at length one Lilliput doth win
By one great stroke, when lo! a sudden gale
Doth whisk its great nose down the hilltop’s side,
And puffs the victor and the prize away.