"Here the needle plies its busy task;
The pattern grows, the well-depicted flower,
Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn,
Unfolds its bosom; buds, and leaves, and sprigs,
And curling tendrils, gracefully dispos'd,
Follow the nimble fingers of the fair—
A wreath that cannot fade, of flowers that blow
With most success when all besides decay."[[1091]]
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE LACE MANUFACTURERS OF ENGLAND.