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A YEAR'S SPINNING.
IV.
I thought—O God!—my first-born's cry
Both voices to my ear would drown:
I listened in mine agony—
It was the silence, made me groan!
And now my spinning is all done.
V.
Bury me 'twixt my mother's grave,
Who cursed me on her death-bed lone,
And my dead baby's—(God it save!)
Who, not to bless me, would not moan.
And now my spinning is all done.
VI.
A stone upon my heart and head,
But no name written on the stone!
Sweet neighbours! whisper low instead,
"This sinner was a loving one—
And now her spinning is all done."
VII.
And let the door ajar remain,
In case he should pass by anon;
And leave the wheel out very plain,
That he, when passing in the sun,
May see the spinning is all done.
