The ants a people are
Not strong, yet they prepare
Their food before the winter
Blasts do fill the air.
And now, dear one, are you like they.
Prepared for a coming day?
Conies are a feeble folk,
Yet they their houses make
In the rock so that storms
Them may never shake.
And now, clear one, let others mock
But say, Are you upon the rock?
The locusts have no king,
Yet they united are,
And nothing ever seems,
Their unity to mar.
Dear soul, say are you now one,
With Him who sits on heaven’s High throne?
The spider that it is,
That takes hold with her hands,
And is in palaces
Of the kings of lands,
Dear one, do you expect to be
In Christ’s own home His face to see?