“Come hither, hither, dearest Fly—a moment step this way.”
There was no limit to the pride of that poor silly Fly.
He listened to the Spider’s voice, which flattered him sky high;
He buzzed about, he tossed his head, and near and nearer drew—
Deceived by his own vanity he thought the Spider true.
“No English Fly has soared so high,” said he, but now at last,
Caught in the cunning Home Rule web, the Spider held him fast.
Moonshine. June 5, 1886.
A Charitable Institution.