She sent her invitations through
The forest far and wide,
To all the Birds and Beasts she knew,
And many more beside.
(“You never know what you can do,”
Said she, “until you’ve tried.”)
Five score acceptances came in
Faster than she could read.
Said she: “Dear me! I’d best begin
To stir myself indeed!”
(A pretty pickle she was in,
With five-score guests to feed!)
The artful Ant sat up all night,
A-thinking o’er and o’er,
How she could make from nothing, quite
Enough to feed five-score.
(Between ourselves I think she might
Have thought of that before.)
She thought, and thought, and thought all night,
And all the following day,
Till suddenly she struck a bright
Idea, which was—(but stay!
Just what it was I am not quite
At liberty to say.)
Enough, that when the festal day
Came round, the Ant was seen
To smile in a peculiar way,
As if—(but you may glean
From seeing tragic actors play
The kind of smile I mean.)
From here and there and everywhere
The happy creatures came,
The Fish alone could not be there.
(And they were not to blame.
“They really could not stand the air,
But thanked her just the same.”)