"Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann; <br />And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan; <br />"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be, <br />I wish that it would not come crawling on me. " <br /> <br />"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say, <br />The poor thing will try to keep out of your way; <br />For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain, <br />It has much more occasion than you to complain. <br /> <br />"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear? <br />If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear; <br />But its little black legs, as it hurried away, <br />Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say. <br /> <br />"For them to fear us we must grant to be just, <br />Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust; <br />But certainly we have no cause for alarm; <br />For, were they to try, they could do us no harm. <br /> <br />"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see <br />What a delicate web it has spun in the tree? <br />Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you: <br />Come learn from this spider what patience can do! <br /> <br />"And when at your business you're tempted to play, <br />Recollect what you see in this insect to-day, <br />Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true, <br />That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "<br /><br />Jane Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-spider/
