The Bee Saved from the Spider

I

The subtle spider often weaves
His unsuspected snares
Among the balmy flowers and leaves,
To which the bee repairs.

II

When in his web he sees one hang,
With a malicious joy
He darts upon it with his fang,
To poison and destroy.

III

How welcome then some pitying friend,
To save the threaten’d bee,
The spider’s treach’rous web to rend,
And set the captive free!

IV

My soul has been in such a case:
When first I knew the Lord,
I hasted to the means of grace,
Where sweets I knew were stored.

V

Little I thought of danger near,
That soon my joys would ebb;
But ah! I met a spider there,
Who caught me in his web.

VI

Then Satan raised his pois’nous sting,
And aim’d his blows at me:
While I, poor helpless trembling thing.
Could neither fight nor flee.

VII

But oh! the Saviour’s pitying eye
Relieved me from despair;
He saw me at the point to die,
And broke the fatal snare.

VIII

My case his heedless saints should warn,
Or cheer them if afraid;
May you from me your danger learn,
And where to look for aid!