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Arthur Symons - The Rope-Maker
Work rating: Low

I weave the strands of the grey rope, 
I weave with sorrow, I weave with hope, 
I weave in youth, love, and regret, 
I weave life into the net. 

When I was a child the care began. 
And now my child shall be a man; 
When I am old and my fingers shake, 
There`ll be nets to mend, and more nets to make. 

And life`s a weary and heavy thing, 
And there`s no rest in the evening; 
And long or light though the labour be, 
It`s a life to the net, and nets to the sea.
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