Ingelow, Jean, 1820-1897 · Boston : Little, Brown · leaf 126
aw her weaving By the misty moonbeam cold,All the weft her shuttle cleaving With a sacred thread of gold. Ah ! she wept me tears of sorrow, Lulling tears so mystic sweet;Then she wove my last to-morrow, And her web lay at my feet. Of my life she made the story :I must weep — so soon twas told! But… … oo c CA. A Story. 107 with a small mast that had a lantern hungto it. By the light of these lanterns Jack saw crowdsof little brown faces; and presently many raftshad come up to the boat, which was now swim-ming very slowly. Every sailor in every raftfastened to the boats side a silken thread;…
Fairy tales
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