The Three Fates

Up in the cave of the wind, All bent and crabbed with their years, In endless chatter they sit, Old Distaff, Spindle, and Shears. And they caught a mother's song Going by them on the breeze, As she hushed her pretty babe To sweet slumber on her knees. 'Oh, you shall be great and proud, And you shall be strong and fleet, For fame to your call will come, And captive Love to your feet. 'And life for you shall be long, All full of your heart's desire'— She sang as she rocked her babe To sleep by the golden fire. Up in the cave of the wind Bent with their difficult years In mocking laughter they sit, Old Distaff, Spindle, and Shears.