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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353976" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XIII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353976" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">THE WEAVER.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353976" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">LITTLE they think, the giddy and the vain, <br>Wandering at pleasure 'neath the shady trees, <br>While the light glossy silk or rustling train <br>Shines in the sun or flutters in the breeze, <br>How the sick weaver plies the incessant loom, <br>Crossing in silence the perplexing thread, <br>Pent in the confines of one narrow room, <br>Where droops complainingly his cheerless head:-- <br>Little they think with what dull anxious eyes, <br>Nor by what nerveless, thin, and trembling hands, <br>The devious mingling of those various dyes <br>Were wrought to answer Luxury's commands: <br>But the day cometh when the tired shall rest,-- <br>Where weary Lazarus leans his head on Abraham's breast!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Caroline+Elizabeth+Sarah+Norton">Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton</a></strong></div>