MORNING and evening, sleep she drove away, Old Platthis,—warding hunger from the door, And still to wheel and distaff hummed her lay Hard by the gates of Eld, and bent and hoar; Plying her loom until the dawn was gray, The long course of Athene did she tread: With withered hand by withered knee she spun Sufficient for the loom of goodly thread, Till all her work and all her days were done. And in her eightieth year she saw the wave Of Acheron,—old Platthis,—kind and brave. (@3Andrew Lang@1) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |