The Spider As An Artist

Old Age Comes On Suddenly, And Not Gradually As Is Thought.

The Mountain At A Given Distance In Amber Lies; Approached, The Amber Flits A Little,-- And That's The Skies!

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior--for Doors Of Chambers As The Cedars Impregnable Of Eye And For An Everlasting Roof The Gambrels Of The Sky Of Visitors--the Fairest For Occupation--this The Spreading Wide My Narrow Hands To Gather Paradise

Faith Is A Fine Invention When Gentlemen Can See, But Microscopes Are Prudent In An Emergency.

I . . . Am Small, Like The Wren, And My Hair Is Bold Like The Chestnut Burr; And My Eyes Like The Sherry In The Glass That The Guest Leaves.