Two sat down in the morning time, One to sing, and one to spin. All men listened the song sublime -- But no one listened the dull wheel's din. The singer sat in a pleasant nook, And sang of a life that was fair and sweet, While the spinner sat with a steadfast look Busily plying her hands and feet. The singer sang on with a rose in her hair, And all men listened her dulcet tone; And the spinner spun on with a dull despair Down in her heart as she sat alone. But lo! on the morrow no one said Aught of the singer or what she sang. Men were saying: "Behold this thread," And loud the praise of the spinner rang. The world has forgotten the singer's name -- Her rose is faded, her songs are old; But far o'er the ocean the spinner's fame Yet is blazoned in lines of gold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALLAD OF THE OYSTERMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ON A PICTURE OF LEANDER by JOHN KEATS CASTOR AND POLYDEUCES by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE THE SWALLOWS by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER GOLD AND STEEL; THE ANSWER by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE YOUNG QUEEN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING RECOLLECTIONS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |