Swiftly Turn The Murmuring Wheel! Night Has Brought The Welcome Hour, When The Weary Fingers Feel Help, As If From Faery Power; Dewy Night O'Ershades The Ground; Turn The Swift Wheel Round And Round! Now, Beneath The Starry Sky, Couch The Widely-Scattered Sheep; Ply The Pleasant Labour, Ply! For The Spindle, While They Sleep, Runs With Speed More Smooth And Fine, Gathering Up A Trustier Line. Short-Lived Likings May Be Bred By A Glance From Fickle Eyes; But True Love Is Like The Thread Which The Kindly Wool Supplies, When The Flocks Are All At Rest Sleeping On The Mountain'S Breast.