On Needle-work
On Needle-work
Mary Lamb
In early youth's unclouded scene,
The brilliant colours fresh and keen,
I saw Life's opening vistas wide —
Oh! cruel Love, and tyrant Pride,
To rob the hours of happiness,
And make the hours seem so long.
Yet still I ply my needle here,
And wile the winter's tedious cheer.
For I must mourn and must not sing,
And ply my needle in the spring.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
British Lady's Magazine, 1815.
