The Spinner

The Spinner twisted her slender thread As she sat and spun: “The earth and the heavens are mine,” she said, “And the moon and sun; Into my web the sunlight goes, And the breath of May, And the crimson life of the new-blown rose That was born to-day.” The spinner sang in the hush of noon And her song was low: “Ah, morning, you pass away too soon, You are swift to go. My heart o’erflows like a brimming cup With its hopes and fears. Love, come and drink the sweetness up Ere it turn to tears.” The spinner looked at the falling sun: “Is it time to rest? My hands are weary,—my work is done, I have wrought my best; I have spun and woven with patient eyes And with fingers fleet. Lo! where the toil of a lifetime lies In a winding-sheet!”