The spider dropping down from twig
Unfolds a plan of her devising
A thin premeditated rig
To use in rising.
And all that journey down from space,
In cool descent and loyal hearted
She spins a ladder to the place
From which she started.
Thus I, gone forth as spiders do
In spider's web a truth discerning,
Attach one silken strand to you
For my returning.
— E. B. White