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He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
I have within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
“Sweet creature!” said the Spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise,
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain,
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly.
And bidding you good morning now, I’ll call another day.”
“Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
Your robes are green and purple — there’s a crest upon your head;
“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I’ve many curious things to show when you are there.”
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I’ve many curious things to show when you are there.”
For who goes up your winding stair
can never come down again.”
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
“There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fi ne and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in!”
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm aff ection I’ve always felt for you?
I’m sure you’re very welcome — will you please to take a slice?”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind Sir, that cannot be,
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I’ve a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
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, fl attering words, came slowly fl itting by;
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue —
Thinking only of her crested head — poor foolish thing!
At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fi ercely held her fast.
Within his little parlour — but she ne’er came out again!
And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly fl attering words, I pray you ne’er give heed:
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly
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