The Spider holds a Silver Ball
In unperceived Hands —
And dancing softly to Himself
His Yarn of Pearl — unwinds —
He plies from Nought to Nought —
In unsubstantial Trade —
Supplants our Tapestries with His —
In half the period —
An Hour to rear supreme
His Continents of Light —
Then dangle from the Housewife’s Broom —
His Boundaries — forgot —
(Emily Dickinson)
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