There is something so calming About the spiders spinning web. Something so comforting, A song sung by the dead. Hear it wallow in the distance Like an unforgiven tune. Sung by the rivers daughter, The beauteous sunset muse.
Bask in the moonlit waters Barely but blessed by shining sun. Hold to your heavn'ly quarters, The likes of which shall come undone. For if you catch the spider spindle You are likely to be safe. In other wares, their finer fares In absence, stay awake.
I speak not for the Titan, Or God nor Goddess alike. I speak not for the tongue Of the mumbling friars might. For Alas my hearers hear this plea, Beware the nymph of sophistry