I FOUND a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth -- Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches' broth -- A snow-drop spider, a flower like froth, And dead wings carried like a paper kite. What had that flower to do with being white, The wayside blue and innocent heal-all? What brought the kindred spider to that height, Then steered the white moth thither in the night? What but design of darkness to appal? -- If design govern in a thing so small. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 12 by JAMES JOYCE A FEW RULES FOR BEGINNERS by KATHERINE MANSFIELD OVID, OLD BUDDY, I WOULD DISCOURSE WITH YOU A WHILE by HAYDEN CARRUTH BEARING LEAVES AGAIN by DAVID IGNATOW ON HUNTINGDON'S 'MIRANDA' by SIDNEY LANIER |