Thread and Song

Sweeter and sweeter,         Soft and low, Neat little nymph,         Thy numbers flow, Urging thy thimble, Thrift’s tidy symbol, Busy and nimble,         To and fro; Prettily plying         Thread and song, Keeping them flying         Late and long. Through the stitch linger, Kissing thy finger,         Quick,—as it skips along. Many an echo,         Soft and low, Follows thy flying         Fancy so,— Melodies thrilling, Tenderly filling Thee with their trilling,         Come and go; Memory’s finger,         Quick as thine, Loving to linger         On the line, Writes of another,   Dearer than brother:         Would that the name were mine!