1 Ye indolent and slothful! rise,
view the ant’s labours, and be wise;
she has no guide to point her way,
no ruler chiding her delay:
2 yet see with what incessant cares
she for the winter’s storm prepares;
in summer she provides her meat,
and harvest finds her store complete.

3 But when will slothful man arise?
how long shall sleep seal up his eyes?
Sloth more indulgence still demands;
sloth shuts the eyes, and folds the hands.
4 But mark the end; want shall assail,
when all your strength and vigour fail;
want, like an armed man, shall rush
the hoary head of age to crush.