THE ENTANGLED FLY.

Ah, thou unfortunate! Poor, silly fly, Caught in the spider's web, Hung there to die! What could have tempted thee? What led thee there, For thy foe, thus to throw Around thee the snare?

Struggling and crying so Ne'er can unweave From thee the silken threads, Laid to deceive. Sorrow for wandering Comes now in vain; And, with one thus undone, Grief adds to pain.

Yet, I will rescue thee, Unwary thing! Thou may'st again be off, High on the wing, If thou wilt promise me, Hence to be found Never more, as before, On evil ground.

Trust not the flatterer Skilled to ensnare: He is a wily one; Think, and beware. Down to his dusky ways No more descend! Little fly, thou and I Both want a friend.

Man hath an enemy, Whose snare is laid Softly and silently, Deep in the shade. Light, by the tempter shunned, Only can show Where, secure, free, and pure, Our feet may go.