I Dreamed I Was A Spider; A Big, Fat, Hungry Spider; A Lusty, Rusty Spider With A Dozen Palsied Limbs; With A Dozen Limbs That Dangled Where Three Wretched Flies Were Tangled And Their Buzzing Wings Were Strangled In The Middle Of Their Hymns. And I Mocked Them Like A Demon - A Demoniacal Demon Who Delights To Be A Demon For The Sake Of Sin Alone; And With Fondly False Embraces Did I Weave My Mystic Laces Round Their Horror-Stricken Faces Till I Muffled Every Groan. And I Smiled To See Them Weeping, For To See An Insect Weeping, Sadly, Sorrowfully Weeping, Fattens Every Spider'S Mirth; And To Note A Fly'S Heart Quaking, And With Anguish Ever Aching Till You See It Slowly Breaking Is The Sweetest Thing On Earth. I Experienced A Pleasure, Such A Highly-Flavored Pleasure, Such Intoxicating Pleasure, That I Drank Of It Like Wine; And My Mortal Soul Engages That No Spider On The Pages Of The History Of Ages Felt A Rapture More Divine. I Careened Around And Capered - Madly, Mystically Capered - For Three Days And Nights I Capered Round My Web In Wild Delight; Till With Fierce Ambition Burning, And An Inward Thirst And Yearning I Hastened My Returning With A Fiendish Appetite. And I Found My Victims Dying, "Ha!" They Whispered, "We Are Dying!" Faintly Whispered, "We Are Dying, And Our Earthly Course Is Run." And The Scene Was So Impressing That I Breathed A Special Blessing, As I Killed Them With Caressing And Devoured Them One By One.