King Bruce of Scotland flung himself down in a lonely mood to think;
’Tis true he was monarch, and wore a crown, but his heart was
beginning to sink,
For he had been trying to do a great deed to make his people glad,
He had tried and tried, but couldn’t succeed, and so he became quite
sad.
He flung himself down in low despair, as grieved as man could be;
And after a while as he pondered there, “I’ll give it all up,” said
he.
Now just at the moment a spider dropped, with its silken cobweb clew,
And the king in the midst of his thinking stopped to see what the
spider would do.
’Twas a long way up to the ceiling dome, and it hung by a rope so
fine,
That how it would get to its cobweb home, King Bruce could not
divine.
It soon began to cling and crawl straight up with strong endeavor,
But down it came, with a slipping sprawl, as near to the ground as
ever.
Up, up it ran, not a second it stayed, to utter the least complaint,
Till it fell still lower, and there it lay, a little dizzy, and
faint.
Its head grew steady--again it went, and travelled a half yard
higher,
’Twas a delicate thread it had to tread, and a road where its feet
would tire.
Again it fell and swung below, but again it quickly mounted,
Till up and down, now fast, now slow, nine brave attempts were
counted.
“Sure,” cried the king, “that foolish thing will strive no more
to climb,
When it toils so hard to reach and cling, and tumbles every time.”
But up the insect went once more, ah me, ’tis an anxious minute;
He’s only a foot from his cobweb door, oh, say will he lose or win
it?
Steadily, steadily, inch by inch, higher and higher he got,
And a bold little run at the very last pinch, put him into his
native spot.
“Bravo, bravo!” the king cried out, “all honor to those who try;
The spider up there defied despair; he conquered, and why shouldn’t
I?”
And Bruce of Scotland braced his mind, and gossips tell the tale,
That he tried once more as he tried before, and that time he did not
fail.
Pay goodly heed, all you who read, and beware of saying, “I can’t,”
’Tis a cowardly word, and apt to lead to Idleness, Folly, and Want.
Whenever you find your heart despair of doing some goodly thing,
Con over this strain, try bravely again, and remember the Spider and
King.
--ELIZA COOK.