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 through space,
 In cool descent and loyal hearted,
 She spins a ladder to the place
 From where she started.

 Thus I, gone forth as spiders do
 In spider's web a truth discerning,
 Attach one silken thread to you
 For my returning.

– E B White