THE WEB OF DREAMS
He wove, and a Web of Dreams unrolled,—
The warp was Fame and the woof was Gold.
Oh, the joy he spent,
And the hearts he rent,
As he wove his fabric of Discontent,
And it fell at his feet soiled fold on fold!
For the threads were frail and tangled and frayed,
As he wove of Self and the things that fade.
Oh, the tears he shed
As his years lay dead,
And he spurned with hate each tattered shred
Of the worthless web his hands had made!
But the Master Weaver heard his prayer,
And plied the shuttle with wondrous care.
Oh, the threads that flew,
And the fabric new,—
The warp was Love and the woof Love too,—
That came from the loom, so strong and fair!
Then the weaver of dreams awoke—and knew;
And with lifted soul he strove anew.
Oh, the joy he found,
And the hearts he crowned,
As the shuttle sped and the reels unwound;—
For he wove of Love and each thread held true!