12.
Neither the nurse who comes at dawn to visit her nursling
E'er shall avail her neck to begird with yesterday's ribband.
[Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, O spindles.]
Nor shall the mother's soul for ill-matcht daughter a-grieving
380
Lose by a parted couch all hopes of favourite grandsons.
Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, O Spindles.
Thus in the bygone day Peleus' fate foretelling
Chaunted from breasts divine prophetic verse the Parcae.