The Spider and the Fly
Will you walk into my parlour?' said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to show when you are there.'
Oh no, no,' said the little Fly, 'to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again.'
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The Sunshine
I love it, when it streameth in
The humble cottage door,
And casts the chequer'd casement shade
Upon the red-brick floor.
I love it, where the children lie
Deep in the clovery grass,
To watch among the twining roots,
The gold-green beetle pass.
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