SPINNING under the Great World Tree, Yggdrasil, Nornir, the sisters three, Singing noiselessly there in the skies, Hidden in the deep blue away from our eyes. Fair fates catching the wandering gold, Weaving it nimbly, fold into fold, Glibly, heedlessly. Ha! but what pull'd Just a thought astray there, the fingers of Skuld? A knot in the thread, double gold, or a grey In the sun-lighted doom? Either way The Fate lingers an instant, whilst over our heads She lifts to the sun that caprice in her threads, To see clearly, to shape it, perhaps, but the shade Falls across our dim prescience, a spirit-hand laid On our pulses that beat, now in hope, now in dread, Presentiments, shadows from Skuld's lifted thread. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JASPER by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MATER AMABILIS by EMMA LAZARUS WAITER IN A CALIFORNIA VIETNAMESE RESTURANT by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOHNNY APPLESEED by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |