Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AT THE LOOM, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AT THE LOOM, by                    
First Line: She stood at the clumsy loom
Last Line: And wrought him into his web again
Subject(s): Sewing


SHE stood at the clumsy loom,
And wove with a careless song;
For her task would soon be done,
And the day was bright and long;
So she worked at her pattern, roses red
And trailing vines; but she thought instead
Where the sweetbrier grew in the distant wood,
And of pleasant shade where the old oak stood.

She stood at the stately loom,
And wove with a girlish grace;
And her eyes grew tender and sweet
As she wrought in the web apace.
Strong men mounted with lance and spear,
Then a chase with hounds and a frightened deer;
But she thought the while of her lover knight,
And whispered softly, "He comes to-night."

She stood at the tireless loom,
And wove with a steady hand;
And a watchful eye on the twain
Without, at play in the sand.
Stripes of warm, dark colors she wrought,
And every thread with a hope was fraught;
Some day, she thought, my lad will be great,
And my bonnie lass a nobleman's mate.

She stood at the dusty loom,
Bent, and wrinkled, and old,
But the shuttle she feebly plied
Dropped from her nerveless hold.
"Ah, well! whom have I to work for now?"
The old dame said, with shaded brow.
"But I've seen the time when I worked with the best:"
And she dropped her chin on her wrinkled breast.

At a silent, invisible loom,
Always, morning and night,
With tender care wrought one
Who was hidden from human sight.
Tangled and broken threads wrought he,
And his finished web was fair to see;
For he gathered the hopes that were broken in twain,
And wrought them into his web again.





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