The Drowning Fly.The Drowning Fly.Inyonder glass behold a drowning fly,Its little feet how vainly does it ply!Its cries we hear not, yet it loudly cries;And gentle hearts can feel its agonies.Poor helpless victim! and will no one save?Will no one snatch thee from the threat’ning wave?Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh?And must thou, little struggler, must thou die?Thou shalt not, whilst this hand can set thee free,Thou shalt not die; this hand shall rescue thee.My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore;There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o’er.Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear;Go, join thy num’rous kindred in the air.Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,And lightly gambols in the golden ray.Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed;For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed!
The Drowning Fly.The Drowning Fly.Inyonder glass behold a drowning fly,Its little feet how vainly does it ply!Its cries we hear not, yet it loudly cries;And gentle hearts can feel its agonies.Poor helpless victim! and will no one save?Will no one snatch thee from the threat’ning wave?Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh?And must thou, little struggler, must thou die?Thou shalt not, whilst this hand can set thee free,Thou shalt not die; this hand shall rescue thee.My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore;There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o’er.Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear;Go, join thy num’rous kindred in the air.Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,And lightly gambols in the golden ray.Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed;For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed!
The Drowning Fly.
Inyonder glass behold a drowning fly,Its little feet how vainly does it ply!Its cries we hear not, yet it loudly cries;And gentle hearts can feel its agonies.Poor helpless victim! and will no one save?Will no one snatch thee from the threat’ning wave?Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh?And must thou, little struggler, must thou die?Thou shalt not, whilst this hand can set thee free,Thou shalt not die; this hand shall rescue thee.My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore;There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o’er.Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear;Go, join thy num’rous kindred in the air.Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,And lightly gambols in the golden ray.Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed;For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed!
Inyonder glass behold a drowning fly,Its little feet how vainly does it ply!Its cries we hear not, yet it loudly cries;And gentle hearts can feel its agonies.Poor helpless victim! and will no one save?Will no one snatch thee from the threat’ning wave?Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh?And must thou, little struggler, must thou die?Thou shalt not, whilst this hand can set thee free,Thou shalt not die; this hand shall rescue thee.My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore;There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o’er.Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear;Go, join thy num’rous kindred in the air.Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,And lightly gambols in the golden ray.Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed;For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed!
Inyonder glass behold a drowning fly,Its little feet how vainly does it ply!Its cries we hear not, yet it loudly cries;And gentle hearts can feel its agonies.Poor helpless victim! and will no one save?Will no one snatch thee from the threat’ning wave?Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh?And must thou, little struggler, must thou die?Thou shalt not, whilst this hand can set thee free,Thou shalt not die; this hand shall rescue thee.My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore;There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o’er.Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear;Go, join thy num’rous kindred in the air.Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,And lightly gambols in the golden ray.
Inyonder glass behold a drowning fly,
Its little feet how vainly does it ply!
Its cries we hear not, yet it loudly cries;
And gentle hearts can feel its agonies.
Poor helpless victim! and will no one save?
Will no one snatch thee from the threat’ning wave?
Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh?
And must thou, little struggler, must thou die?
Thou shalt not, whilst this hand can set thee free,
Thou shalt not die; this hand shall rescue thee.
My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore;
There, trembler, all thy dangers now are o’er.
Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear;
Go, join thy num’rous kindred in the air.
Away it flies, resumes its harmless play,
And lightly gambols in the golden ray.
Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed;For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed!
Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed;
For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed!