THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. A FABLE. SAID the Spider to a Fly, "How severely do you try All the artifice suggested by invention, In thus looking through my lattice, As if saying, Well now that is Better finished than some others I could mention.' 66 Pray why don't you, when so rude, Say 'I hope I don't intrude,' And in proof of your good wishes put your head in; And with unexampled grace Would I instantly embrace You as do people when they consummate their wedding.” Then relying on his word, She with confidence inferred That her safety might be trusted to his honour; When, as oft will wicked man, With his victim if he can, He now laid his rudely treacherous hand upon her. PLEASANT IS A FEAST OF FLOWERS. PLEASANT is a feast of flowers, Gathered in the season When we dedicate the hours Purposely to reason. Pleasant is it to report, In such little rambles, All the interesting sport Found in youthful gambols. Pleasant is it to confide Musings to another, When adhering to one's side Closer than a brother. Pleasant both to young and old Is a tale of fiction, When its incidents are told In the purest diction. Pleasant is it to rehearse Deeds of martial glory, In a well selected verse, Worthy of the story. Pleasant is the silver tongue, When it kindly hails us With an antidote in song, For whate'er assails us. Pleasant is the morning sun, When its beam discloses Children that we dote upon, Blushing like the roses. AH! WHY SO SWEET AT EARLY DAWN. AH! why so sweet at early dawn Appears this welcome day, That birds on each inviting thorn Should sing their choicest lay. The thirsty hills that boldly rise Invoke the rude prolific skies To pour their gladdening rain. The Sun rejoicing in his might Surveys the gorgeous scene, His favourite robe of green. |