<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348204" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Weaver</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">All day, all day, round the clacking net<br>The weaver's fingers fly:<br>Gray dreams like frozen mists are set<br>In the hush of the weaver's eye;<br>A voice from the dusk is calling yet,<br>'Oh, come away, or we die!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Without is a horror of hosts that fight,<br>That rest not, and cease not to kill,<br>The thunder of feet and the cry of the flight,<br>A slaughter weird and shrill;<br>Gray dreams are set in the weaver's sight,<br>The weaver is weaving still.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Come away, dear soul, come away or we die;<br>Hear'st thou the moan and the rush! Come away;<br>The people are slain at the gates, and they fly;<br>The kind God hath left them this day;<br>The battle-axes cleaves, and the foemen cry,<br>And the red swords swing and slay.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Nay, wife, what boots to fly from pain,<br>When pain is wherever we fly?<br>And death is a sweeter thing than a chain:<br>'Tis sweeter to sleep than to cry,<br>The kind God giveth the days that wane;<br>If the kind God hath said it, I die.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the weaver wove, and the good wife fled,<br>And the city was made a tomb,<br>And a flame that shook from the rocks overhead<br>Shone into that silent room,<br>And touched like a wide red kiss on the dead<br>Brown weaver slain by his loom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet I think that in some dim shadowy land,<br>Where no suns rise or set,<br>Where the ghost of a whilom loom doth stand<br>Round the dusk of its silken net,<br>Forever flyeth his shadowy hand,<br>And the weaver is weaving yet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Archibald+Lampman">Archibald Lampman</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348204" data-title="The Weaver de Archibald Lampman" data-description="All day, all day, round the clacking net The weaver's fingers fly: Gray dreams like frozen mists are set In the hush of the weaver's eye; A voice from the dusk is calling yet, 'Oh, come away, or we die!' Without is a horror of hosts that fight, T..."></div> </div> </div>

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