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.