THE SPIDER AND THE FLY A Fable Mary Howitt born March 12, 1799, died Jan. 1888 Will you walk into my parlour? said the spider to the fly, Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy. The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, And I have many pretty things to showe when you get there O, no no, said the little fly, to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair cam mever come down again. Im sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so nhigh, Will you rest upon my little bed?, said the spider to the fly. There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile, Ill snugly tuck you in. O, no, no, , said the little fly for Ive heard it often said, They never , never wake again, who sleep upon your bed. Said the cunning spider to the fly, Dear friend what shall I do, To prove the warm affection Ive always felt for you. I have within my pantry good store of all thats nice, Im sure you are very welcome, will you please to take a slice?. O, no, no. said the little fli kind sir, that cannot be, I ve heard whats in your pantry, and I do not wish to see. Sweet creature, said the spider, you are witty and youre wise, How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes; I have a little looking glass upon the parlour shelf, If youll step in one moment dear, you will behold yourself. I thank you gently sir, she said [for what you are pleased to say, and bidding you good morning now, Ill call another day. The spider turned him roundabout, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again. So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly, And set his table ready to dine upon the fly. Then he came out to his out to his door again, and merrily did sing. [Your robes are green and purple, theres a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead Alas, alas; how very soon this silly little fly; Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by, Wing buzzing wings she hung aloft, the near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head - poor foolish thing; At last; Up jump the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast. He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, Within his little parlour, but she neer came out again. And now dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you never give heed, Unto an evil, counsellor close heart and ear and eye, and take a lesson from this tale OF THE SPIDER AND THE FLY..
Posted on: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 10:35:19 +0000
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