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Title: The Old-Fashioned Loom
Author: Cotton Noe [
More Titles by Noe]
The old log house where Margaret lived, whose roof had mossy grown,
Reposed amid its clump of trees, a queen upon her throne.
The landscape round smiled proudly and the flowers shed sweet perfume,
When Margaret plied the shuttle of the rude old-fashioned loom.
The world has grown fastidious--demands things ever new--
But we could once see beauties in the rainbow's every hue;
The bee could then find nectar in a common clover bloom,
And simple hearts hear music in the shuttle of the loom.
The picture that my memory paints is never seen to-day--
The April sun of by-gone years has lost its brightest ray:
A fancy-wrought piano in a quaint, antique old room,
But Margaret sang her sweetest to the music of the loom.
She wore a simple home-spun dress, for Margaret's taste was plain,
Yet life was like a song to her, with work a sweet refrain.
The sunshine filled her days with joy, night's shadows brought no gloom.
When Margaret plied the shuttle of the old old-fashioned loom.
Her warp of life was toiling hard, but love its beauteous woof.
The web she wove, a character beyond the world's reproof.
O girls of wealth and beauty vain, who dress in rich costume,
How sweet the shuttle's music of this rare old-fashioned loom.
The world may grow fastidious in art and nature too,
And say there is no beauty in the rainbow's every hue;
And yet the bee finds nectar in a common clover bloom,
And I still love the music of the old old-fashioned loom.
[The end]
Cotton Noe's poem: Old-Fashioned Loom
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