Mary Howitt lived from 1799 to 1888. Her poem, The Spider and the Fly, was first published in 1829, almost 200 years ago.

The first line of the poem – “Will you walk into my parlour?” said the spider to the fly – is often misquoted, and you may have heard people say, “‘Come into my parlour,’ said the spider to the fly.” It is used to show that someone is trying to tempt another to do something they probably shouldn’t do.

In her poem, which is about seven stanzas long, the spider tries to lure the fly into coming into her trap. I’ve quoted some parts and paraphrased others.

#1 Spider: Will you walk into my parlour … up a winding stair.

Fly: Oh, no, no … For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.

#2 Spider: I’m sure you must be weary, dear. Will you rest upon my little bed?

Fly:  Oh, no, no … They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.

#3 Spider: I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?

Fly: I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.

#4 Spider: I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.

Fly: I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning now, I’ll call another day.”

#5 Spider: He wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.

(Then he said all kinds of flattering things to the fly, until the fly couldn’t resist).

Fly: She came nearer and nearer, listening to the flattery, thinking of how pretty she was.

And then: Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor; but she ne’er came out again!

The lesson is basically, “Don’t fall for flattery,” or you might end up like this fly that was caught by a spider on my living room window yesterday.

Epilogue: (Apologies for no proper poetic meter.)

The fly was sucked dry.

The spider had her inside ‘er.

She was dropped on the sill, my dog ate her at will.

The spider returned to the scene of the crime, and Anneli smashed her and turned her to slime.

Some regret did I feel, but it had one last meal.