SONGS for CHILDREN, SONG XXXV

A SPIDER once his web had spun, And thought he dwelt securely In a snug corner it was run, And as he thought full surely.

Many a thoughtless fly he caught, And soon his fate decided; Grown proud at last, he vainly tho't All foes to have derided.

So high his cobweb seat he built, So well he had design'd it, That while he gloried in his guilt, Not Molly's broom could find it.

At length, one Summer's morn, a Bee Came humming round the ceiling. And soon, like many others, she Entangled without feeling.

The Spider from his secret cell, Came out with thoughts most pleasing; And with a leap he practis'd well, At once his prey was seizing.

But the strong Bee his web destroy'd And the sly felon wounded; Thus ere his conquest he enjoy'd, His schemes were all confounded.

Stung to the quick, he now withdrew, And made a dismal moan; The Bee with honey loaded flew, The Spider died alone.

Thus wretches who work other's woe, A while with joy relate; When unexpected ills they know, Unpity'd meet their fate.