"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;

My floors are carpeted so nice, with velvet soft and clean

So won't you walk in, my little fly, and I'll treat you like a queen.

Will you, will you, will you, will you ... walk in, Mr. Fly?"

When in my palace you will find a shelter snug and warm?

Full many a fly I've taken in from out the chilly rain,

And such attachments do they form, they ne'er go out again.

Will you, will you, will you, will you ... walk in, Mr. Fly?"

Your golden wings and modest brow, your bright and flashing eye;

And then you sing your dulcet songs so merrily and so free,

I only wish you'd just hop in, and sing your songs to me.

Will you, will you, will you, will you ... walk in, Mr. Fly?"

So charm'd was he with flattering words he ne'er had heard before;

The spider bade him welcome in with wide extended arms,

And patting gently on his back he lavished him with charms.

"Will you, will you, will you, will you ... walk in, Mr. Fly?"

Until within the spider's grasp the little fly was bound;

Too late he sought to fly away, but the spider held him fast,

And then he laughed "Ha! ha! my boy, I've caught you, sir, at last.

Will you, will you, will you, will you ... walk out, Mr. Fly?"

The lying and the flatt'ring tongue, which charms but to ensnare;

And when the tempter falsely says, "Thou shalt not surely die,"

Just call to mind the little song of the spider and the fly.

Will you, will you, will you, will you ... keep out, Mr. Fly?"