Because knaves know themselves unjust? 
  That steward, whose account is clear,
  Demands his honour may appear: 
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  His actions never shun the light,
  He is, and would be proved upright. 
     But then you think my fable bears
  Allusion, too, to state affairs. 
     I grant it does:  and who’s so great,
  That has the privilege to cheat? 
  If, then, in any future reign
  (For ministers may thirst for gain;)
  Corrupted hands defraud the nation,
  I bar no reader’s application.
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     An ant there was, whose forward prate
  Controlled all matters in debate;
  Whether he knew the thing or no,
  His tongue eternally would go. 
  For he had impudence at will,
  And boasted universal skill. 
  Ambition was his point in view;
  Thus, by degrees, to power he grew. 
  Behold him now his drift attain: 
  He’s made chief treasurer of the grain.
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     But as their ancient laws are just,
  And punish breach of public trust,
  ’Tis ordered (lest wrong application
  Should starve that wise industrious nation)
  That all accounts be stated clear,
  Their stock, and what defrayed the year: 
  That auditors should these inspect, 97
  And public rapine thus be checked. 
  For this the solemn day was set,
  The auditors in council met.
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  The granary-keeper must explain,
  And balance his account of grain. 
  He brought (since he could not refuse ’em)
  Some scraps of paper to amuse ’em. 
     An honest pismire, warm with zeal,
  In justice to the public weal,
  Thus spoke:  ’The nation’s hoard is low,
  From whence doth this profusion flow? 
  I know our annual funds’ amount. 
  Why such expense, and where’s the account?’
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     With wonted arrogance and pride,
  The ant in office thus replied: 
  ’Consider, sirs, were secrets told,
  How could the best-schemed projects hold? 
  Should we state-mysteries disclose,
  ’Twould lay us open to our foes. 
  My duty and my well-known zeal
  Bid me our present schemes conceal. 
  But on my honour, all the expense
  (Though vast) was for the swarm’s defence.
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     They passed the account as fair and just,
  And voted him implicit trust. 
     Next year again the granary drained,
  He thus his innocence maintained: 
     ’Think how our present matters stand,
  What dangers threat from every hand;
  What hosts of turkeys stroll for food,
  No farmer’s wife but hath her brood. 
  Consider, when invasion’s near,
  Intelligence must cost us dear;
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  And, in this ticklish situation,
  A secret told betrays the nation. 
  But, on my honour, all the expense
  (Though vast) was for the swarm’s defence.’ 
     Again, without examination,
  They thanked his sage administration. 
     The year revolves.