John Clare - The Ants lyrics

What wonder strikes the curious, while he views The black ant's city, by a rotten tree Or woodland bank! In ignorance we muse Pausing, annoyed,--we know not what we see Such government and thought there seem to be Some looking on, and urging some to toil Dragging their loads of bent-stalks slavishly And what's more wonderful, when big loads foil One ant or two to carry, quickly then A swarm flock round to help their fellow-men Surely they speak a language whisperingly Too fine for us to hear; and sure their ways Prove they have kings and laws, and that they be Deformed remnants of the Fairy-days