'Will you walk into my parlor?' said the spider to the fly;
''Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you may spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have 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.'
'I'm sure you must be weary, dear,
with soaring up so high.
Well you rest upon my little bed?' said the spider to the fly.
'There are pretty curtains drawn around;
the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest a while, I'll snugly tuck you in!'
'Oh no, no,' said the little fly, 'for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed!'
Said the cunning spider to the fly:
'Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome -
will you please to take a slice?
'Oh no, no,'