At life's loom we work -- Weavers all. Whether we will or no The shuttle moves And the threads we throw To and fro. At life's loom we work Weavers all. The hours glide fast or slow, The thread is grey or golden glow; But the shuttle flies To and fro. At life's loom we work Weavers all. The shuttle stops; our work is done, The broken threads drop one by one: They fold our hands; We'd scarce begun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRACELET: TO JULIA by ROBERT HERRICK DESCRIPTION OF SPRING by HENRY HOWARD ON THE DEATH OF SIR THOMAS WYATT by HENRY HOWARD ON THE BUILDING OF SPRINGFIELD by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY BALLADE OF EGREGIOUSNESS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 4 by MARK AKENSIDE TO ONE WHO DIED LAST YEAR by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD |