To a Woman Spinning

How poor thou art, and yet thou art not poor.
Oh peaceful spinner!
Ragged and barefoot, sitting at thy door,
Thou art the winner!
Thine eyes are placid, as to-day the sea,
Thrice happy spinner!
Content on her best cates hath nourished thee,
A royal dinner!
At bed and board she serves thee on her knee,
Oh queenly spinner!
Would that such service she would lend to me,
Heart-broken sinner!