My wife was at a clients house dusting and found this old book. Here being a fellow bibliophile, she had to stop for a moment and check it out. She said this poem was her favorite so far from the book. The Spider and the Fly
“Will you walk into my parlour, said a Spider to a 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 shew when you get there.
Oh, no, no! said the little Fly; to ask me is in vain:
For who goes up that winding stair shall ne'er come down again.
Said the adorable Spider to the Fly, Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I have ever felt tor you?
I have within my parlour great store of all that’s nice:
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice!
Oh, no, no! said the little Fly; kind miss, that cannot be;
For I know what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.
Sweet creature, said the Spider, you’re witty and you’re wise;
How handsome are your gaudy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour-shelf;
If you’ll step in one moment, sir, you shall behold yourself.
Oh, thank you, gentle miss, he said, for what you’re pleased to say;
And wishing you good morning now, I’ll call another day.
The Spider turn’d her round again, and went into her den,
For well she knew that cunning Fly would soon come back again.
And then she wore a tiny web, in a little corner sly,
And set her table ready for to dine upon the Fly;
And went out to her door again, and merrily did sing,
Come hither, pretty little Fly, with the gold and silver wing.
Alas, alas! how very soon this cunning little Fly,
Hearing her wily flattering words, came slowly fluttering by.
With humming wings he hung aloft, then nearer and nearer drew.
Thinking only of his crested head and gold and purple hue:
Thinking only of his brilliant wings, poor foolish thing! at last,
Up jump’d the hungry little Spider, and firmly held him fast!
She dragged him up her winding stair, into her dismal den,
Within her little parlour; but he ne'er came down again.
And now, my pretty maidens, who may this story hear,
To silly, idle, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give ear;
Unto a beatiful lady, close heart, and ear, and eye,
And learn a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
~By Mary Howitt, 1829
Yet another post from Robsdeskwv
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