Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, UPON A SPIDER CATCHING A FLY, by EDWARD TAYLOR



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UPON A SPIDER CATCHING A FLY, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Thou sorrow, venom elf
Last Line: For joy.
Subject(s): Flies; Insects; Puritans In Literature; Spiders; Bugs


Thou sorrow, venom elf:
Is this thy play,
To spin a web out of thyself
To catch a fly?
For why?

I saw a pettish wasp
Fall foul therein,
Whom yet thy whorl-pins did not clasp
Lest he should fling
His sting.

But as afraid, remote
Didst stand hereat
And with thy little fingers stroke
And gently tap
His back.

Thus gently him didst treat
Lest he should pet,
And in a froppish, waspish heat
Should greatly fret
Thy net.

Whereas the silly fly,
Caught by its leg
Thou by the throat tookst hastily
And hind the head
Bite dead.

This goes to pot, that not
Nature doth call.
Strive not above what strength hath got
Lest in the brawl
Thou fall.

This fray seems thus to us.
Hell's spider gets
His entrails spun to whip-cords thus,
And wove to nets,
And sets.

To tangle Adam's race
In's stratagems
To their destructions, spoiled, made base
By venom things,
Damned sins.

But mighty, gracious Lord,
Communicate
Thy grace to break the cord, afford
Us glory's gate
And state.

We'll nightingale sing like
When perched on high
In glory's cage, thy glory, bright,
And thankfully,
For joy.






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