CEASELESSLY the weaver, Time, Sitting at his mystic loom, Keeps his arrowy shuttle flying; Every thread anears our dying -- And, with melancholy chime, Very low and sad withal, Sings his solemn madrigal As he weaves our web of doom. "Mortals!" thus he, weaving, sings, "Bright or dark the web shall be, As ye will it; all the tissues Blending in harmonious issues, Or discordant colorings; Time the shuttle drives; but you Give to every thread its hue, And elect your destiny. "God bestowed the shining warp, Fill it with as bright a woof; And the whole shall glow divinely, As if wrought by angels finely, To the music of the harp, And the blended colors be Like perfected harmony, Keeping evil things aloof. "Envy, malice, pride, and hate -- Foulest progeny of sin -- Let not these the weft entangle, With their blind and furious wrangle, Marring your diviner fate; But with love and deeds of good Be the web throughout endued, And the perfect ye shall win." Thus he singeth very low, Sitting at his mystic loom; And his shuttle still is flying -- Thread by thread anears our dying, Grows our shroud by every throw; And the hues of woe or heaven To each thread by us are given, As he weaves our web of doom. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS A DIM DOORWAY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CONTENTMENT, AFTER THE MANNER OF HORACE by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY UNMANIFEST DESTINY by RICHARD HOVEY IN MEMORIAM (EASTER 1915) by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS THE VILLAGE MUNITIONS CO., INC.; FORMERLY THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |