Her broad clear brow in sunlight glow,
On burnish hooves her white-horse trod
From underneath her scarf flow
Her coal-black curls on as she rode.
A bow-shot her bower-eaves,
She rode between the sheaves,
The sun came through the leaves,
And flamed upon the hills.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three pace through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume.
There she waves by night and day
A magic web colors gay.
She has heard them say,
They’ll kill her if she stay.
She knows not what they may say,
And so she weaved steadily,
And little other care has she
She have said “not that I care.”
As often through the twilight
Below the starry clusters bright
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Happy to see it’s light.
And sometimes through the mirror
The enemies sit and saw a sight
She has no loyal knight to fight
Sometimes she wonders “is this right?”
“Maybe I should not fight”
She thought it’s not right.
She stops and starts the light
And did what is right!
