The spider and the fly (George Frederick Root)
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- Editor: David Anderson (submitted 2023-12-04). Score information: Letter, 16 pages, 746 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: The spider and the fly
Composer: George Frederick Root
Lyricist: Mary Howitt
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella
First published: 1880 John Church & Co.
Description:
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said a Spider to a Fly,
“It is the prettiest parlor that ever you did spy!
You have only got to pop your head here, just inside the door,
You’ll see, oh, many curious things you never saw before.”
Will you walk in, pretty fly?
“My fine house is always open,” said the Spider to the Fly,
“I’m glad to have a visit from all I see go by;”
“They go in, but don’t come out again— I’ve heard of you before!”
“Oh, yes they do, I always let them out the other door.”
“Will you grant me one sweet kiss, dear,” says the Spider to the Fly,
“To taste your charming lips I’ve a curiosity.”
Says the Fly, “If once our lips did meet, a wager I would lay
Of ten to one, you would not after, let them come away.”
“If not kiss, will you shake hands, then?” says the Spider to the Fly,
“Before you leave me here with my sorrow sad to sigh?”
Says the Fly, “There’s nothing so attractive unto you belongs
That I should let you touch me, even with a pair of tongs!”
“Oh, what handsome wings you’ve got, dear,” says the Spider to the Fly,
“If I had only such wings I in the air would fly;
But ’tis useless my repining, it is only idle talk,
You know that you can fly in air, while I’m obliged to walk.”
“For the last time now I ask you, will you walk in Mister Fly?”
“No, if I do I may be shot; I’m off, so now goodbye.”
Then up he springs, but both his wings were in the web caught fast;
The Spider laughed, “Ah, ah, my boy! I have you safe at last.”
“Tell me, pray, how are you now, dear,” says the Spider to the Fly;
Fools never will get wisdom, unless they dearly buy;
It is vanity that ever makes repentance come too late,
And they who into cobwebs run, right well deserve their fate.