Thou sorrow, venom Elfe: <br />Is this thy play, <br />To spin a web out of thyselfe <br />To Catch a Fly? <br />For Why? <br /> <br />I saw a pettish wasp <br />Fall foule therein: <br />Whom yet thy Whorle pins did not clasp <br />Lest he should fling <br />His sting. <br /> <br />But as affraid, remote <br />Didst stand hereat, <br />And with thy little fingers stroke <br />And gently tap <br />His back. <br /> <br />Thus gently him didst treate <br />Lest he should pet, <br />And in a froppish, aspish heate <br />Should greatly fret <br />Thy net. <br /> <br />Whereas the silly Fly, <br />Caught by its leg <br />Thou by the throate tookst hastily <br />And ‘hinde the head <br />Bite Dead. <br /> <br />This goes to pot, that not <br />Nature doth call. <br />Strive not above what strength hath got, <br />Lest in the brawle <br />Thou fall. <br /> <br />This Frey seems thus to us. <br />Hells Spider gets <br />His intrails spun to whip Cords thus <br />And wove to nets <br />And sets. <br /> <br />To tangle Adams race <br />In’s stratigems <br />To their Destructions, spoil’d, made base <br />By venom things, <br />Damn’d Sins. <br /> <br />But mighty, Gracious Lord <br />Communicate <br />Thy Grace to breake the Cord, afford <br />Us Glorys Gate <br />And State. <br /> <br />We’l Nightingaile sing like <br />When pearcht on high <br />In Glories Cage, thy glory, bright, <br />And thankfully, <br />For joy.<br /><br />Edward Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/upon-a-spider-catching-a-fly/
