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Sprinkling their powerful drops. From ebon urn,
The one unsparing dash'd the bitter wave
Of woe; and as he dash'd, his dark-brown brow
The one unsparing dash'd the bitter wave
Of woe; and as he dash'd, his dark-brown brow
On a rock more high
Than Nature’s common surface, she beholds
The Mansion house of Fate, which thus unfolds
Its sacred mysteries. A trine within
A quadrate placed, both these encompast in
A perfect circle was its form; but what
Its matter was, for us to wonder at,
Is undiscovered left. A Tower there stands
At every angle, where Time’s fatal hands
The impartial Parcæ dwell; i’ the first she sees
Clotho the kindest of the Destinies,
From immaterial essences to cull
The seeds of life, and of them frame the wool
For Lachesis to spin; about her flie
Myriads of souls, that yet want flesh to lie
Warm’d with their functions in, whose strength bestows
That power by which man ripe for misery grows.
Than Nature’s common surface, she beholds
The Mansion house of Fate, which thus unfolds
Its sacred mysteries. A trine within
A quadrate placed, both these encompast in
A perfect circle was its form; but what
Its matter was, for us to wonder at,
Is undiscovered left. A Tower there stands
At every angle, where Time’s fatal hands
The impartial Parcæ dwell; i’ the first she sees
Clotho the kindest of the Destinies,
From immaterial essences to cull
The seeds of life, and of them frame the wool
For Lachesis to spin; about her flie
Myriads of souls, that yet want flesh to lie
Warm’d with their functions in, whose strength bestows
That power by which man ripe for misery grows.
Her next of objects was that glorious tower
Where that swift-fingered Nymph that spares no hour
From mortals’ service, draws the various threads
Of life in several lengths; to weary beds
Of age extending some, whilst others in
Where that swift-fingered Nymph that spares no hour
From mortals’ service, draws the various threads
Of life in several lengths; to weary beds
Of age extending some, whilst others in
