“Sweet creature,” said the spider,
  “You’re witty and you’re wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings,
  How brilliant are your eyes. 
I have a little looking-glass
  Upon my parlor 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,
And bidding you good-morning now,
  I’ll call another day.”

The spider turned him round about,
  And went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly
  Would soon be back again;
So he wove a subtle web
  In a little corner sly,
And set his table ready
  To dine upon the fly.

He went out to his door again,
  And merrily did sing,
“Come hither, hither, pretty fly,
  With pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple,
  There’s a crest upon your head;
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, flattering words,
  Came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft,
  Then near and nearer drew—­
Thought only of her brilliant eyes,
  And green and purple hue;
Thought only of her crested head—­
  Poor foolish thing!  At last
Up jumped the cunning spider,
  And fiercely held her fast.

He dragged her up his winding stair,
  Into his dismal den
Within his little parlor—­but
  She ne’er came out again! 
And now, dear little children
  Who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words,
  I pray you, ne’er give heed. 
Unto an evil counselor
  Close heart and ear and eye;
And take a lesson from this tale
  Of the spider and the fly.

THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON LOW

“And where have you been, my Mary,
  And where have you been from me?”
“I’ve been to the top of the Caldon Low,
  The midsummer night to see!”

“And what did you see, my Mary,
  All up on the Caldon Low?”
“I saw the glad sunshine come down,
  And I saw the merry winds blow.”

“And what did you hear, my Mary,
  All up on the Caldon Hill?”
“I heard the drops of the water made,
  And the ears of the green corn fill.”

“Oh! tell me all, my Mary—­
  All, all that ever you know;
For you must have seen the fairies
  Last night on the Caldon Low.”

“Then take me on your knee, mother;
  And listen, mother of mine: 
A hundred fairies danced last night. 
  And the harpers they were nine;

“And their harp-strings rung so merrily
  To their dancing feet so small;
But oh! the words of their talking
  Were merrier far than all.”

“And what were the words, my Mary,
  That then you heard them say?”
“I’ll tell you all, my mother;
  But let me have my way.