IN companies or lone <br />They bend their heads, their hands <br />They busy with their gear, <br />Accomplishing the stitch <br />That turns the stocking-heel, <br />Or closes up the toe, <br />These knitters at their doors. <br />Their talk 's of nothing else <br />But what was told before <br />Sundown and gone sundown, <br />While goats bleat from the hill, <br />And men are tramping home, <br />By knitters at their doors. <br />And we who go this way <br />A benediction take <br />From hands that ply this task <br />For the ten thousandth time <br />Of knitters at their doors. <br />Since we who deem our days <br />Most varied, come to own <br />That all the works we do <br />Repeat a wonted toil: <br />May it be done as theirs <br />Who turn the stocking-heel, <br />And close the stocking-toe, <br />With grace and in content, <br />These knitters at their doors. <br />The Charm <br />Uisge cloiche gan irraidh <br /> <br />WATER, I did not seek you, <br />Water of hollow stone; <br />I crossed no one's acre to find you <br />You were where my geese lie down. <br /> <br />I dip my fingers and sprinkle, <br />While three times over I say, <br />'Chance-bound and chance-found water <br />Can take a numbness away.' <br /> <br />The numbness that leaves me vacant <br />Of thought and will and deed <br />Like the moveless clock that I gaze on- <br />It will go where the ravens breed. <br /> <br />I empty the stone; on the morrow <br />I shall rise with spirit alive; <br />Gallant amongst the gallant, <br />I shall speak and lead and strive. <br /> <br />In search there is no warrant, <br />By chance is the charm shown: <br />Water, I did not seek you, <br />Water of hollow stone!<br /><br />Padraic Colum<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-knitters/
