AS o'er her loom the Lesbian Maid In love-sick languor hung her head, Unknowing where her fingers strayed, She weeping turned away, and said: 'Oh, my sweet Mother—'tis in vain— I cannot weave, as once I wove— So wildered is my heart and brain With thinking of that youth I love!' Again the web she tried to trace, But tears fell o'er each tangled thread; While, looking in her mother's face Who o'er her watchful leaned, she said: 'Oh, my sweet mother—'tis in vain— I cannot weave, as once I wove— So wildered is my heart and brain With thinking of that youth I love!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOUNTAIN WATER by SARA TEASDALE SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A CHILD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE WINDMILL by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU by ROBERT BURNS OH! SUSANNA! by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: A LITANY IN TIME OF PLAGUE by THOMAS NASHE |