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The Bibelot
VOLUME I
Mdcccxcv
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From The Bibelot, A Reprint of Poetry and Prose for Book Lovers, chosen in part from scarce editions and sources not generally known, Volume I, Number V, Testimonial Edition, Edited and Originally Published by Thomas B. Mosher, Portland, Maine; Wm. Wise & Co.; New York; 1895; p.150.
Sweet Mother, I cannot weave my web, broken as I am by longing for a maiden, at soft Aphrodite’s will.
[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.”
T. MOORE, Evenings in Greece.
[Compare also Landor’s exquisite lines:
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel:
My fingers ache, my lips are dry;
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I!
No longer could I doubt him true:
All other men may use deceit;
He always said my eyes were blue,
And often swore my lips were sweet.]