gossamers {233b}float on the air, The dew-gems twinkle in the glare, The spider’s loom p. 234Is closely plied, with artful care, Even in my room.

p. 234

See how she moves in zigzag line, And draws along her silken twine, Too soft for touch, for sight too fine, Nicely cementing: And makes her polished drapery shine, The edge indenting.

Her silken ware is gaily spread, And now she weaves herself a bed, Where, hiding all but just her head, She watching lies For moths or gnats, entangled spread, Or buzzing flies.

You cunning pest! why, forward, dare So near to lay your bloody snare! But you to kingly courts repair With fell design, And spread with kindred courtiers there Entangling twine. {234}

Ah, silly fly! will you advance? I see you in the sunbeam dance: Attracted by the silken glance In that dread loom; Or blindly led, by fatal chance, To meet your doom.

Ah! think not, ’tis the velvet flue Of hare, or rabbit, tempts your view; Or silken threads of dazzling hue, To ease your wing, p. 235The foaming savage, couched for you, Is on the spring.

p. 235

Entangled! freed!—and yet again You touch! ’tis o’er—that plaintive strain, That mournful buzz, that struggle vain, Proclaim your doom: Up to the murderous den you’re ta’en, Your bloody tomb!

So thoughtless youths will trifling play With dangers on their giddy way, Or madly err in open day Through passions fell, And fall, though warned oft, a prey To death and hell!

But hark! the fluttering leafy trees Proclaim the gently swelling breeze, Whilst through my window, by degrees, Its breathings play: The spider’s web, all tattered flees, Like thought, away.

Thus worldlings lean on broken props, And idly weave their cobweb-hopes, And hang o’er hell by spider’s ropes, Whilst sins enthral; Affliction blows—their joy elopes—  And down they fall! {235}

p. 236EPISTLE TO A YOUNG CLERGYMAN.

p. 236

“Study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”—2 Timothy ii. 15.

Timothy

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