AS o'er her loom the Lesbian Maid In love-sick languor hung her head, Unknowing where her fingers strayed, She weeping turned away, and said: 'Oh, my sweet Mother—'tis in vain— I cannot weave, as once I wove— So wildered is my heart and brain With thinking of that youth I love!' Again the web she tried to trace, But tears fell o'er each tangled thread; While, looking in her mother's face Who o'er her watchful leaned, she said: 'Oh, my sweet mother—'tis in vain— I cannot weave, as once I wove— So wildered is my heart and brain With thinking of that youth I love!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAELICA: 100 by FULKE GREVILLE WHEN THE FOLKS COME ALONG by FREDERICK L. ALLEN SAD MADRIGAL, SELECTION by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE STRUCTURAL IRON WORKERS by MACKNIGHT BLACK THE ROAD OF SLEEP by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |