“Here languid beauty kept her pale-faced court;
Bevies of dainty dames, of high degree,
From every quarter hither made resort,
Where from gross mortal care and business free
They lay, poured out in ease and luxury:
Or should they a vain show of work assume,
Alas! and well-a-day! what can it be?
To knot, to twist, to range the vernal bloom;
But far is cast the distaff, spinning wheel, and loom.
Their only labour was to kill the time,