'See! A haggard seamstress, bending,
Bloodless cheek and aching head,
O'er the toil that, never ending,
Hardly gives her children bread.
Cometh sleep, and from her fingers
Steals away the half-turned seam,
And with noiseless footstep lingers,
Weaving many a joyous dream,
Till her eyelids sink and close,
While their song around her flows: