(Charles Bloomfield.)
I.
II.
So we all settled round,
As it lay on the ground,
And were feasting ourselves with delight;
But, for want of more thought
To have watched, as we ought,
We were suddenly seized—and held tight.
III.
In a human clenched hand,
Where, unable to stand,
We were twisted and tumbled about;
But, perceiving a chink,
You will readily think
I exerted myself—I got out.
IV.
How the rest got away
I really can't say;
But I flew with such ardour and glee.
That again, unawares,
I got into the snares
Of my foe Mr. Spider, you see;
V.