Explore "The Ropewalk" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In that building, long and low, / With its windows all a-row, / Like the port-holes of a hulk, / Human spiders spin and spin, / Backward down their threads so thin / Dropping, each a hempen bulk.
At the end, an open door; / Squares of sunshine on the floor / Light the long and dusky lane; / And the whirring of a wheel, / Dull and drowsy, makes me feel / All its spokes are in my brain.