The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Spinner
THE SPINNER.
As I calmly sat and span,
Toiling with all zeal,
Lo! a young and handsome man
Passed my spinning-wheel.
And he praised,—what harm was there?
Sweet the things he said—
Praised my flax-resembling hair,
And the even thread.
He with this was not content.
But must needs do more;
And in twain the thread was rent,
Though 'twas safe before.
And the flax's stonelike weight
Needed to be told;
But no longer was its state
Valued as of old.
When I took it to the weaver,
Something felt I start,
And more quickly, as with fever.
Throbbed my trembling heart.
Then I bear the thread at length
Through the heat, to bleach;
But, alas, I scarce have strength
To the pool to reach.
What I in my little room
Span so fine and slight,—
As was likely, I presume—
Came at last to light.