THE SPIDER AND
THE HONEY-BEE.
A FABLE FOR MANY IN GENERAL AND SOME IN PARTICULAR.
I.
A bee who had chased after pleasure all
day,
And homeward was lazily wending his way,
Fell in with a Spider, who called to the Bee:
“Good evening! I trust you are well,”
said he.
II.
The bee was quite happy to stop awhile
there—
For indolence always has moments to spare—
“Good evening!” he said, with
a very low bow,
“My health, sir, alas! ’tis
quite delicate now.
III.
“From spring until autumn, from
morning till night,
I’m obliged to be toiling with all
my might;
My labors are wearing me out, and you
know
I might as well starve, as to kill myself
so.”
IV.
The Spider pretended to pity the Bee—
For a cunning old hypocrite Spider was
he—
“I’m sorry to see you so ill,”
he said;
And he whispered his wife, “He will
have to be bled.”
[Illustration: THE BEE OUTSIDE THE WEB.]
V.
“Some people—perhaps
they are wiser than I—
Some people are in a great hurry to die;
Excuse me, but candor compels me to say,
’Tis wrong to be throwing one’s
life away.
VI.
“Your industry, sir, it may do very
well
For the beaver’s rude hut, or the
honey-bee’s cell;
But it never would suit a gay fellow like
me;
I love to be idle—I love to
be free.
VII.
“This hoarding of riches—this
wasting of time,
In robbing the gardens and fields—’tis
a crime!
And then to be guilty of suicide, too!
I tremble to think what a miser will do.”
VIII.
’Tis strange the poor Bee was so
stupid and blind.
“Mister Spider,” said he,
“you have spoken my mind;
There’s something within me that
seems to say,
I have toiled long enough, and ’tis
better to play.
IX.
“But how in the world shall I manage
to live?
I might beg all my life, and nobody would
give.
’Tis easy enough to be merry and
sing,
But living on air is a different thing.”
X.
The Spider was silent, and looked very
grave—
’Twas a habit he had—the
scheming old knave!
No Spider, intent on his labor of love,
Had more of the serpent, or less of the
dove.
XI.
“To serve you would give me great
pleasure,” said he;
“Come into my palace, and tarry
with me;
The Spider knows nothing of labor and
care.
Come, you shall be welcome our bounty
to share.
XII.
“I live like a king, and my wife
like a queen,
In meadows where flowers are blooming
and green;
’Tis sweet on the violet’s
bosom to lie,
And list to the stream that runs merrily
by.
XIII.
“With us you shall mingle in scenes
of delight,
All summer and winter, from morning till
night;
And when ’neath the hills the sun
sinks in the west,
Your head on a pillow of roses shall rest.
XIV.
“When miserly Bees shall return
from their toils,
We’ll catch them, and tie them,
and feast on the spoils;
I’ll lighten their burdens—I
ought to know how—
My pantry is full of such gentlemen now.”
XV.
The Bee did not wait to be urged any more,
But nodded his thanks, as he entered the
door.
“Aha!” said the Spider, “I
have you at last.”
And he caught the poor urchin, and wound
him up fast.
XVI.
The Bee, when aware of his perilous fate,
Recovered his wit, though a moment too
late.
“O treacherous Spider! for shame!”
said he,
“Is it thus you betray a poor, innocent
Bee?”
XVII.
The cunning old Spider then laughed outright;
“Poor fellow!” he said, “you
are in a sad plight!
Ha! ha! what a dunce you must be to suppose,
That the heart of a Spider should pity
your woes!
[Illustration: THE BEE INSIDE THE WEB.]
XVIII.
“I never could boast of much honor
or shame,
Though a little acquainted with both by
name;
But I think if the Bees can a brother
betray,
We Spiders are quite as good people as
they.
XIX.
“On the whole, you have lived long
enough, I opine;
So now, by your leave, I will hasten to
dine;
You’ll make a good dinner, it must
be confess’d,
And the world, I am thinking, will pardon
the rest.”
XX.
This lesson for every one, little and
great, Is taught in that vagabond’s tragical
fate: Of him who is scheming your friend
to ensnare, Unless you’ve a passion
for Heeding, beware!
