Who would think a spider would lead to a poem about Fate? Sure, watching a spider spin a web might lead to some surmising of design in nature. But yes, Robert Frost has come to the conclusion that everything has a design, if nature does, just from witnessing a coincidental white 'snow-drop' spider trap a white moth on a white flower.
This poem came to mind after watching sci-fi fable flick 'The Adjustment Bureau' based on a Philip K Dick short story, about the struggle between freewill and predestination. Albeit, featuring a more benevolent Fate than what Frost suggests here.
Design - Robert Frost
I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.
What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.