Spider.
They are ill shaped, who warped are by sin;
Antipathy in thee hath long time bin
To God. No marvel then, if me his Creature
Thou dost defy, pretending Name and Feature.
But why stand off? My Presence shall not throng thee,
'Tis not my venom, but thy sin doth wrong thee.
Come I will teach thee Wisdom, do but hear me,
I was made for thy profit, do not fear me.
But if thy God thou wilt not hearken to,
What can the Swallow, Ant, or Spider do?
Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected;
Sometimes great things, by small means are effected.
Hark then; tho man is noble by Creation,
He's lapsed now to such Degeneration;
Is so besotted, and so careless grown,
As not to grieve, though he has overthrown
⟨p. 21⟩Himself, and brought to Bondage every thing
Created, from the Spider to the King.
This we poor Sensitives do feel and see;
For subject to the Curse you made us be.
Tread not upon me, neither from me go;
'Tis man which has brought all the world to woe.
The Law of my Creation bids me teach thee,
I will not for thy Pride to God impeach thee.
I spin, I weave, and all to let thee see,
Thy best performances but Cob webs be.
Thy Glory now is brought to such an Ebb,
It doth not much excel the Spider's Web.
My Webs becoming snares and traps for Flies,
Do set the wiles of Hell before thine eyes.
Their tangling nature is to let thee see,
Thy sins (too) of a tangling nature be.
My Den, or Hole, for that 'tis bottomless,
Doth of Damnation show the Lastingness.
My lying quat, until the Fly is catched,
Shows, secretly Hell hath thy ruin hatched.
In that I on her seize, when she is taken,
I show who gathers whom God hath forsaken.
The Fly lies buzzing in my Web to tell
Thee, how the Sinners roar and howl in Hell.
Now since I show thee all these Mysteries,
How canst thou hate me; or me Scandalize?
Spider.
They are ill shap't, who warped are by sin;
Antipathy in thee hath long time bin
To God. No marvel then, if me his Creature
Thou dost defie, pretending Name and Feature.
But why stand off? My Presence shall not throng thee,
'Tis not my venom, but thy sin doth wrong thee.
Come I will teach thee Wisdom, do but hear me,
I was made for thy profit, do not fear me.
But if thy God thou wilt not hearken to,
What can the Swallow, Ant, or Spider do?
Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected;
Sometimes great things, by small means are effected.
Hark then; tho man is noble by Creation,
He's lapsed now to such Degeneration;
Is so besotted, and so careless grown,
As not to grieve, though he has overthrown
⟨p. 21⟩Himself, and brought to Bondage every thing
Created, from the Spider to the King.
This we poor Sensitives do feel and see;
For subject to the Curse you made us be.
Tread not upon me, neither from me go;
'Tis man which has brought all the world to wo.
The Law of my Creation bids me teach thee,
I will not for thy Pride to God impeach thee.
I spin, I weave, and all to let thee see,
Thy best performances but Cob webs be.
Thy Glory now is brought to such an Ebb,
It doth not much excel the Spider's Web.
My Webs becoming snares aud traps for Flies,
Do set the wiles of Hell before thine eyes.
Their tangling nature is to let thee see,
Thy sins (too) of a tangling nature be.
My Den, or Hole, for that 'tis bottomless,
Doth of Damnation shew the Lastingness.
My lying quat, until the Fly is catcht,
Shews, secretly Hell hath thy ruin hatcht.
In that I on her seize, when she is taken,
I shew who gathers whom God hath forsaken.
The Fly lies buzzing in my Web to tell
Thee, how the Sinners roar and howl in Hell.
Now since I shew thee all these Mysteries,
How canst thou hate me; or me Scandalize?
