In their dark House of Cloud The three weird sisters toil till time be sped; One unwinds life, one ever weaves the shroud, One waits to part the thread. I CLOTHO How long, O sister, how long Ere the weary task is done? How long, O sister, how long Shall the fragile thread be spun? LACHESIS 'T is mercy that stays her hand, Else she had cut the thread; She is a woman too, Like her who kneels by his bed! ATROPOS Patience! the end is come; He shall no more endure: See! with a single touch! -- My hand is swift and sure! II Two Angels pausing in their flight. FIRST ANGEL Listen! what was it fell An instant ago on my ear -- A sound like the throb of a bell From yonder darkling sphere! SECOND ANGEL The planet where mortals dwell! I hear it not ... yes, I hear; How it deepens -- a sound of dole! FIRST ANGEL Listen! It is the knell Of a passing soul -- The midnight lamentation Of some stricken nation For a Chieftain's soul! It is just begun, The many-throated moan ... Now the clangor swells As if a million bells Had blent their tones in one! Accents of despair Are these to mortal ear; But all this wild funereal music blown And sifted through celestial air Turns to triumphal paeans here! Wave upon wave the silvery anthems flow; Wave upon wave the deep vibrations roll From that dim sphere below. Come, let us go -- Surely, some chieftain's soul! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN by WASHINGTON ALLSTON REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY BOOKS by WILLIAM COWPER ON AN OLD MUFF by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THE THREE KINGS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO MY ANTENOR, MARCH 16, 1661/2 by KATHERINE PHILIPS PROSOPOPOIA, OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE by EDMUND SPENSER |