From one branch to another his cobwebs he slung,
Then quick as an arrow he darted along.
But just in the middle—oh! shocking to tell,
From his rope, in an instant, poor Harlequin fell.
Yet he touched not the ground, but with talons outspread,
Hung suspended in air, at the end of a thread.
Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk and a spring,
Very long was his leg, though but short was his Wing;
He took but three leaps, and was soon out of sight,
Then chirp’d his own praises the rest of the night.