“MAMMA, you say that I should love
Whatever God has made;
I like to love papa and you,
The sunshine and the shade.
“The fruits and flowers, and singing birds,
And everything I see;
Even the cruel little worm
That killed my currant tree.
“But all day long I’ve tried to love
That spider on the wall;
I scarcely think that you could, if
You’d stop and see it crawl.
“I cannot love its ugly legs,
However much I try;
And see how fast it runs, mamma,
To kill the little fly!
“The worm, I’m certain, did not know
Whose tree it was he’d bitten;
But spiders must know very well
Flies don’t like being eaten.”
“Be sure, then, dear, you never do
A thing you know is wrong;
For think how shocking it would be
If I tried all day long,
“And yet I found I could not love
My little girl at all,
Because she seemed as cruel as
The spider on the wall!”