I have drunk and seen the spider.
And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.
She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.
A very honest woman but something given to lie
Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.